


A Cup of Kindness Yet

by heyhester



Series: Something of Life [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyhester/pseuds/heyhester
Summary: Christmas is the season of miracles, and everyone in Hawkins knows that Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers are going to need a miracle or two (or ten) to sort out their feelings for each other.An Advent Calendar inspired Christmas Fic.





	1. December 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Hello sweet friends! First of all, the hugest thank you ever for all of your lovely comments on the previous fic in this series, _What we Read, We Dream_. I'm so pleased you all seemed to enjoy it and I hope you'll enjoy this next part of the series as well! Each chapter will correspond to a day in the month of December, leading up to Christmas Day. 
> 
> Fic title is from the wonderful Christmas Album of the same name by Canadian band _Hey Rosetta!_

** December 1st **

 

He gets a new television to replace the one that she accidentally cleaved in half while she was sick. She’s not quite better yet and still stuck at home without company, and trying to find things for her to do without a television has been a challenge. He goes all the way to South Bend to get one, not wanting any questions in town, and even picks up one of the new video recorders everyone’s talking about to go with it. Now she can record what she wants so she can watch it later and he knows it’s gonna blow her mind. 

The look on her face when he explains it is absolutely worth the frankly fucking ridiculous price point. 

“Just think of it as an early Christmas present,” he says, plugging it into the TV set and popping the tape in the deck. She knows about Christmas - she missed it last year because she was still in the woods, but they’ve been playing _Do They Know it’s Christmas?_ on the radio non-stop and they’ve already got to the part in _Anne of Green Gables_ where Matthew gives her the dress with Puffed Sleeves for the Christmas Ball. 

“You’ll still probably get something from Santa though,” he finishes, dusting off his hands and coming out from behind the TV set.

She’s sitting on the couch with her hair in a mop of curls piled on top of her head, wrapped up in a gigantic blanket and wearing a pair of his socks rolled four or five times. He wrinkles his nose at the approximately _a million_ used kleenexes littering the couch and floor. 

“El?” he says, exasperated, hands spread out in front of him. “What is this? Come on Kid, what did I say?”

She grabs another Kleenex and blows her nose loudly. “Use the garbage,” she answers.

“That’s right,” he says, bending down to pick up all the kleenexes and miscellaneous television packaging and throw it away. When he looks up she’s staring at him.

“Who’s Santa?” she asks, the ’t’ of the name crisply enunciated when she says it. 

He knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights but - he has absolutely no idea how to answer this question. She’s asked him harder questions, definitely, (Her “ _why did they put sticks of wood between boys and girls dancing together at the Snow Ball”_ was a fun one) but in the back of his mind he dimly understands that his answer to this one is going to be very important. 

“Um…”

She’s looking at him. Most kids her age don’t believe in Santa any more, so - should he just tell her the truth?

“Well, he’s—” But never giving her a chance to believe in Santa feels like…a really shitty thing to do, doesn’t it? Sara had loved Santa. 

“He’s a….man,” he starts out, “who visits kids on Christmas eve and brings them presents if they’ve been good all year. He’s big and fat and has a big white beard and wears a red and white suit” 

She stares at him for a minute, her eyes narrowed. She sniffles, once. “Like…a superhero?”

Of course she knows about superheroes, Will loves them and he’s got tons of action figures and drawings of them that he’s been showing her.

“Well…no, not like a superhero. He’s magic, y’know, like he’s got the magic of Christmas that lets him do all this. He flies from house to house on this big sleigh that’s pulled by reindeer." 

“What’s a reindeer?”

“It’s uh…it’s kind of like a winter version of a regular deer, they’ve got more fur and these big antlers,” and he mimes the antlers with his fingers on his forehead. 

She’s still looking at him she can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. “And he brings presents?” 

He nods. “Yup, lots of presents. But only if you’re good.”  

“Will he know the knock?”  

“…what?” 

“The Knock. So we know he’s a friend.” _Oh_ \- of course, the knock. He’s stupidly proud that even when distracted by presents she still has the wherewithal to think about their safety. 

“ _Oh_ \- that’s a good question but no, he won't use the door. He comes down the Chimney.” 

Her eyes go as wide as saucers and she swivels her head to look at their chimney…which is extremely small and connected to the wood stove. She turns back to him slowly. “Friends don’t lie,” she says, but a little unsure.  

“Kid, I would not lie to you about this. Trust me.”

She looks back to the chimney and doesn’t look away for a long time.

This is when he realizes….he might be in a little bit of trouble here.

———————————————

He calls Joyce from his phone at the Station.

“Does Will still believe in Santa?” he asks, instead of a Hello.

He hears her little sound of aggravation at being interrupted at work for such a banal question. “Hopper,” she begins, and it sounds like she’s moving around, “I really - I don’t have time for this right now.”

He frowns, looks at the clock. _12:30_. “Aren’t you on your break?”

Another one of those sounds. “ _No,_ Hop, it’s December first and there are seven hundred people at my till waiting to be rung through, so - maybe can we- can we talk about this later?” she sounds harried.

“So what, you’re just not gonna eat? I’ll bring you something over,” he says. Melvald _would_ try and just not give her a break, the bastard. 

“ _No_!” She shouts, and he jerks the phone a little farther away from his face at the increase in volume. “I- I mean, no _thank you_ , really. I’ll- I’ll be fine, Hop, honestly.” Honestly his _ass_ \- he’d bet his last hundred bucks that she _won’t_ eat and Joyce has always been one of those people who could stand to gain ten or fifteen pounds. She’s always on the side of a little too thin, a little too stretched out, and it’s not like he hasn’t brought her food before so this reaction isn’t typical.

“Listen, Jim, I’ve - I’ve gotta go. But just - we’ll talk later, okay? Tell El I say hi.” And with that, she’s hung up. 

He pulls the phone away, stares at it for a minute with a frown on his face. 

Flo walks by, sees his expression and stops. “Was that Joyce Byers?”

“ _No_ ,” he says, giving her a disgruntled look. She raises one eyebrow at him behind her glasses.  “Maybe. How’d you know?”

She gives him a dry look. “What can I say, I have a gift,” she answers, walking away with an eye roll. 

He holds the phone in his hand, lets out a heavy breath through his nose before hanging up. He hasn’t seen her since she came to help him with El at the cabin. It’s not…it’s not un _usual_ , per se - it’s not like they spent every day together before, but at least they _saw_ each other. Every week when they’d both go to Will’s appointment, at least, and he’d check up on her at work or at the house every little while too - just to see how they were all making out. They’d been through…something so unbelievable that afterwards it was natural they’d gravitate towards each other, trust each other. Finding Will together, forging that trust - he knew her, _relied_ on her in a way that people seldom were able to. But they hadn’t…it had never been the right timing, not in the middle of all that craziness. But nothing had _happened_ , nothing that would have meant they were going to start something. And then he’d found El in the woods shortly after and she’d- she’d started seeing Bob, which was _fine_ , it was…it was fine.

He’d been happy for her. She didn’t owe him a goddamn thing and, in any case, he was in no position to offer her anything. Keeping El a secret while simultaneously trying to wean himself off of his Tuinal dependency was taking up most of his time anyways, and that was hardly the foundation for a relationship. What was he supposed to do, walk up to her and say ‘ _Hi, I’m detoxing off barbiturates and am keeping a telekinetic preteen a secret in a cabin in the woods. Let’s get dinner’_? Please. 

She needed something dependable. She needed something solid and supportive and fucking _normal._ God knows she’d had the opposite of stability with Lonnie, that fucking jackass - he’d never been called over for a domestic disturbance but he’d heard the way Lonnie spoke to her in public, seen him drinking during the day and going home plastered, seen Joyce around town with bruises that a cop learns to recognize. Bob had been everything Lonnie wasn’t. Not… _exciting_ , maybe, but stable. A sure bet. Someone who would have taken care of her. So…yeah, he’d been happy for her. Happy because _she’d_ seemed happy. Joyce Byers deserved happiness in her life more than any other person he knew, and if Bob Newby was the one she’d found it with, well, then - that was that. No matter how his stomach turned over every time he saw them together. He’d survived worse. 

And then Bob had sacrificed himself to save them all and he’d had to forcibly pull her away from his body and those things tearing it apart, and where did you even go from that?

He’d sat with her in her room while she cried. He’d held her in the Middle School parking lot while _Every Breath You Take_ echoed out from inside the gymnasium. She had curled into him, her own small, cool hand resting on top of his own. He had looked down at the top of her head when she’d done that, could remember thinking to himself _Jesus, you are one sorry character, Jim Hopper._ Pining after a woman who was grieving someone else. 

And then - then they’d had a…a _moment_ , he thinks, at the cabin, just a- a _nothing_ , really, but it had seemed like…well, he doesn’t even know anymore. She’d been with Bob and then Bob had died, and regardless of how much better his day might have been for seeing her or how his pulse sped up a little bit every time she looked up at him through those dark eyelashes, he wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Bob Newby had sacrificed himself for her - for _all_ of them - and he wasn’t going to insult his memory and her feelings by swooping in and….and…well, _and._

_But_ he thinks, _if they’d had one more minute -_ it seemed like they might have…like something might have happened. Like she might have been okay with it, even _wanted_ it. But he was obviously wrong because she won’t even take his calls now. So, another thing he’s managed to fuck up. And if he wants to sit at his desk and feel sorry for himself he damn well _will._

Suddenly his intercom flares to life. “Chief,” Flo beckons, and he reaches forward to press down the talk button. 

“Yeah Flo”.

“It’s Sam Echolls, he’s called another two times about the speeding on main street outside his store - will you _please_ deal with him??”

Flo can hear his answering groan even without the intercom.

—————————-

After his entirely useless visit with Sam Echolls he heads back to the Blazer to radio the cabin and check on El.

“How ya makin’ out, Kid?” he asks, glad of this one small way he can keep an eye on her while he's not there.

“Good,” she answers, not sounding as sniffl-y as before.

“Are you drinking the soup?” 

There’s a long pause before, “….Yes,”

He sighs, rubs his forehead. “Did you eat a pudding pop beforehand?”

Another long pause. “…Yes.” 

“El, you gotta drink the soup - it’s gonna make you feel better. Pudding Pops are crap and they’re gonna make you feel like crap if that’s all you eat.”

“Joyce said it’s good for me,” she answers.

He huffs out a breath, incredulously. “No, she - Ellie, she meant that when she’d crushed a half a bottle of Tylenol into one to try and get your fever down. She didn’t mean they were good for you any other time.”

Another pause on the other end. “So, with the…Ty-Leh-Nol…it’s okay?” she asks, slowing over the name of the Pill. He narrows his eyes.

“It’s only okay when Joyce or I do it for you - do _not_ touch that bottle, I mean it El.”

He hears her disgruntled little sigh, knows she’s rolling her eyes. 

“Drink the soup, El,” he says again. 

“Yes,” she answers. 

“Good girl. You need anything on the way home?”

“Yes,’ she answers right away, surprising him. “A tree.”

“…..A…tree?” _What the hell?_

“A Christmas Tree,” she says. _Fuck_ , obviously a Christmas Tree. Jesus he hasn’t had a Christmas Tree since…since before Sara died. 

“Uh…Okay, well we - we can talk about getting a-”

“Santa puts the presents under it,” she says, all matter of fact in that way she has. 

“…Right.”

“He won’t come if there’s no tree.”

“Where'd you learn that?”

“ _How The Grinch Stole Christmas,_ ” she answers. He rolls his eyes skywards. He should have never replaced that damn television. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I’m fudging the timeline a little bit- Bob Geldof’s _Do They Know it’s Christmas?_ Was recorded on November 25th, 1984 but not released until December 3rd. The song was recorded in a single day by the supergroup _Band Aid_ , made up of some of the biggest names in British and Irish music. It shot to number one, became the fastest selling single in UK history, and raised over £8 Million for the Ethiopian famine. 
> 
> * In 1984 Sony won its landmark lawsuit against Universal Studios on video recording. _Sony Corp V Universal Studios_ , also known as the Betamax case, allowed Sony to keep manufacturing a product that would allow home viewers to record television programs without it being labeled as copyright infringement, thereby deeming home videotaping legal in the US. The Betamax film recorder (you might remember in Season 1 when Hopper goes to the Library, he’s told he needs to use the betamax to look at old newspaper reels) was eventually replaced a few years later by the all powerful VHS tape. We can all thank this decision though - if we didn't have it, we wouldn’t have Netflix! 
> 
> *In the original _Montauk_ notes from the Duffer Brothers, it stated Jim was dependent on Tuinal, a barbiturate that was heavily abused at the time and later recalled. Marketed as a sedative, Tuinal was abused recreationally and gave users a feeling of reduced anxiety and inhibition. It also made users feel relaxed and euphoric for a short time. Barbiturate overdose was pretty common in the 70's but has decreased dramatically since then due to a rise in a safer category of pills marketed for sedation, called benzodiazepines. 
> 
> * If you’ve never had a teacher come by and put a ruler between you and your dance partner to make sure you weren’t dancing too closely, did you even go to middle school???


	2. December 2nd

** December 2nd **

 

_‘Bah Humbug; now that's too strong!_

_'Cause it is my favorite holiday._

_But all this year's been a busy blur_

_Don't think I have the energy_

_To add to my already mad rush_

_Just 'cause it's 'tis the season…_

 

_You and me both, sister,_ Joyce thinks as _Christmas Wrapping_ by the Waitresses plays on the loudspeaker at Melvald’s. 

She’s always liked the holidays. Not because her own Christmases as a girl were so wonderful (they weren’t) but because she’d always been singled out for being frenetic and anxious; as soon as Christmas rolled around though, every other person in town was all of those things too. So many things to juggle - decorating, parties, family, presents - everyone else ran around harried and excited by the spirit of the season, and her own personality quirks faded a little more easily into the background. And…people were always just a little bit kinder during the Holidays. Not - not a lot, but…just enough. Just enough to last until the next year rolled around. 

When her grandma was still alive, she’d always made sure that Joyce had a Christmas tree at the house. She’d had a whole box of beautiful old ornaments and Joyce had loved putting them up, getting to look a them every day - it was the one time of the year her little, drab old house had felt special. After her grandma had passed, her father had pawned that box of ornaments. But she’d saved up for months working odd jobs after school to buy a few of them back from the pawn shop and they were still some of her most treasured possessions. 

Lonnie hadn’t cared for Christmas much - Lonnie hadn’t cared for _family_ much and if anything Christmas time just made it easier for him to get drunk during the day - but the boys? The boys _loved_ Christmas. Jonathan loved carols. He used to dance and sing along to them, he’d known all the words - even to the really obscure ones like _It Came Upon The Midnight Clear_ and _Ding Dong Merrily on High_. And Will loved to make ornaments! He’d come home from school, his arms _filled_ with papier-mâché snowflakes, cardboard snowmen, and reindeer made from popsicle sticks. It really was an amazing thing, to be excited about something and pass that excitement down to a little person, experiencing these wonderful things for the first time.

Right around now she’d normally be feeling pretty darn excited for the season, but instead she’s just feeling worn out. Normally the extra hours and holiday pay at Melvald’s were things she looked forward to all year, but this year each extra hour felt like a slog. She was just…. _so exhausted._ She’s always prided herself on being able to handle whatever life’s thrown at her. Mom’s an alcoholic and dad gambles away most of each paycheque? She dealt with it. Pregnant out of high school courtesy of the resident bad boy? She dealt with it. Alcoholic and semi-abusive husband? She dealt with it. Supporting two boys as a single mother? She dealt with it. Fighting the whole town and the U.S. government to bring back her boy? She dealt with that too. But having to do it all over again…and losing Bob in the process? That had really done it.

She’d fallen into a kind of easy security with Bob. He was so good, and so kind, and so, so caring - he would have done _anything_ for her, for Will or for Jonathan, if she’d asked. Sure, they maybe hadn’t…had the most _amazing_ sexual chemistry, but when had she ever? The only other person she’d ever slept with was Lonnie, and he’d never been interested in whether or not she was satisfied. The much more important thing was that Bob had been _there_ for her. Forty some odd years of having everyone she ever depended on leave meant the ones who stuck around were worth fighting for. And then Bob had died, sacrificing himself to save her son. All those possibilities - the possibility of being in a partnership, of being supported and being able to _depend_ on someone, of not being alone…all of those had vanished into thin air. 

_HHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!! HOOOOOOONNKK!! HOOONK HOOOOOONK!!!_

A loud car horn sounds from outside, startling her - upon further inspection it’s Sam Echolls from the hardware store standing out in the road trying to slow drivers down. Joyce rolls her eyes, about to go back to pricing christmas ornaments when she spots him.

There’s something simultaneously safe and perverse about observing him like this, through the glass, when he has no idea she’s watching. 

He’s not in his uniform today, which makes sense since Sunday is his usual day off. He looks…he looks _good_ , wearing that wide brimmed hat and his flannel and his jeans and he’s marching towards Sam with that look on his face that says he means business…

“Joyce”

…god that _look_ \- he’s looked at her like that before, that night at the cabin when….when they’d had that moment and he’d pulled her closer to him and she’d thought _holy shit he’s gonna kiss me_ before they’d been interrupted by….

“ _Joyce”_

…El, which was _fine_ of course, the poor thing was as sick as anyone she’d ever seen and she’d been so glad that she’d woken up feeling better and even gladder that she’d stopped her from making a goddamn _fool_ of herself in front of Jim Hopper…

“ _JOYCE!”_ Karen Wheeler yells from in front of her - Jesus she hadn’t even noticed she’d been standing there. 

“Oh! God; I’m - I’m so sorry Karen, I just…I was just caught up thinking, you know me,” she manages to chuckle out, her fade sure to be flaming red like it always went when she was embarrassed.  

“What are you staring at?” Karen asks, moving to peer out the window. “Oh my _God_ ,” she starts, and Joyce feels the excuses on the tip of her tongue, is ready to say _No it’s not what you think Karen we’re just friends-_

_“What_ is Sam Echolls doing out there?? He’s become _such_ a crotchety old man, I hope he gets run over,” she finishes. Joyce is so relieved at Karen’s misreading of the situation that she just stands there, gaping. 

Karen pouts at her. “Oh, _well_ \- don’t give me that look, Joyce, I don’t _mean_ it. It’s just he’s become a public menace and he ought to be charged, standing there in the middle of the road disrupting traffic.” 

“Right…no, absolutely,” she answers, reaching into Karen’s basket to start ringing her through as Karen continues to look out the window, trying to simultaneously keep sneaking places at Hopper and avoid being caught sneaking glances at Hopper. 

She can vaguely hear Hopper chastising Sam for standing in the middle of the road _like a damn lunatic_ and _the new speed limit is here to stay whether you like it or not!!_ “Ha!” Karen says, watching the events unfold. “Good for Hopper, giving that man a piece of his mind. Unbe _liev_ able what people think they can do in public.” Joyce _hmms_ her assent, price checking a package of multicoloured Christmas lights that doesn’t have a tag to scan.

Karen’s still looking out the window. “Hmmmm,” she says. “Hopper’s looking pretty good lately, huh?” she says, one eyebrow raised in appreciation. Her face is so hot Joyce thinks it might actually be on fire. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, no - yeah, he’s - I guess so, yeah,” she stammers out. Karen turns to her, surprised.  

“What, like you haven’t noticed?” She asks, “Spending all that time with him like you have been?” 

_Oh, god_ “We-ell…I mean _sure,_ I think…I think he might have lost a little weight?” she answers, the end of her sentence creeping up as if she’s asking a question.  

“ _I’ll_ say,” Karen shoots back. “You know, men of that age tend to really stop caring- _Ted_ certainly doesn’t care about maintaining his midsection,” she says, long suffering, rolling her eyes. “Even when he was a heavier last year he carried it _pretty darn well_ if you ask me,” she goes on, “but these last few months - mmm! I should let him give me a ticket sometime, _”_ she finishes.  

Okay - she’s _definitely_ noticed that he’s lost a little around the middle. He’d always been a big guy - stupidly tall, broad across the shoulders, like a football player - but he’d put on a little more in the past year. Stress, probably - he’d been taking care of El for the better part of twelve months completely on his own and knowing that girl’s notorious sweet tooth she can't imagine that they’d been eating well the whole time. Plus…and she’d _never_ ask him about this of course but it had been no secret that Hopper had been on a steady diet of women, booze, and pills since he’d come back to Hawkins. But she hadn’t seen him foggy headed and lethargic from pills for over a year, and coming off those things led a man to seek comfort elsewhere. Eggos slathered in whipped cream started to look pretty great during a detox, she’d figured. But in the past couple months he’d looked a little more like his usual self - at the cabin she’d frankly been surprised to find frozen vegetables in the freezer and actual non-rotting fruit in the fruit bowl. It looked like knowing he was gonna be able to keep El for real had flipped a switch for him, and all for the better. 

“Joyce!” 

She snaps her he'd up. “What? Sorry Karen,” she says. _Get it together!_ she thinks. 

“I said, do you know who he’s been seeing?” 

Joyce freezes for a minute. _Seeing - seeing someone?? What??_  

_“_ Um…what - what makes you think he’s seeing anyone?” she asks. He’s - he’s _not_ seeing someone, she’d _know_ if he was seeing someone- 

Karen rolls her eyes good naturedly as if Joyce is the sweetest most naive person on the planet. “ _Joyce_ ,” she says. “His truck’s _never_ at his trailer overnight! Obviously he’s seeing someone but it can’t be someone in town because no one’s seen his truck in any other driveway here in Hawkins.” 

_Oh - Oh thank god_ she thinks. “Oh, well, uh - no, I don’t - I’m not sure. He hasn’t said anything about it to me.”

Karen curls her lip as if to say _hmph_ at Joyce not being a better source of gossip. “Well, in any case, how have you been doing?”  

“Oh, good, I-” 

“Listen you _must_ come to our Christmas party this year, I’ve convinced Ted to get us an Ice bar!!”

Joyce raises her eyebrows. “Wow,” she manages. “That’s- that’s wonderful, Karen.” 

“You’ll come, won’t you?”

“Well….I don’t know, Karen…”

Karen gives her her biggest, best puppy dog eyes. “ _Joyce_ ,” she says. “You absolutely _must_ come, I _insist!_ What with this _year_ you’ve had and poor Bob - you need a little bit of cheering up. And do _not_ even worry about bringing a date, you’ll hardly be the only person coming stag.” 

Joyce knows Karen isn’t meaning to be hurtful here - in fact, she’s meaning to be sweet, reassuring her that she doesn’t need to worry about being on her own and not feeling self conscious. Bob’s just passed - of course she wouldn't bring a date. That’s all Karen means. Not that Joyce _couldn’t_ get a date.  

“I…” she starts to say, ready to beg off, but Karen is biting her lip at her and giving her the most hopeful look, so instead of saying no, “…I guess so, sure Karen - thanks” is what she says instead. 

Karen claps her hands, makes a little squealing noise of happiness. “Wonderful!! All us ladies will be there then. It’ll be so special, just you wait and see!” she goes on.  

Joyce rings her through, and Karen promises she’ll call and that they’ll have coffee soon. Coffee really means that Joyce will have coffee and Karen will have wine, but she appreciates it just the same.  

It’s not- it’s not her attraction to Hopper that’s the problem. She’s _always_ found him attractive, even from way back in school. The problem is the _guilt._ Bob didn’t just die - Bob was killed trying to _save their lives._ Maybe their relationship hadn’t been everything she’d dreamed of as a girl, but it had come a whole hell of a lot closer than any _other_ relationship she’d ever had. Sweet Bob had died for her family and instead of mourning him, here she was, a month later, spending her days dreaming about Jim fucking Hopper like some teenager. 

It - it made sense, in a way, she figured. Jim had been the first one to actually believe her about Will, the one who’d gone into that upside down hell to find him with her. He cared about Will, she could see that - he’d gone to every single appointment they’d had at Hawkins Lab - _every_ one. He’d sat with her, silently over coffee and a cigarette, or come by Melvald’s to make sure she was eating and taking care of herself. And then he’d been by her side again as they’d all faced that nameless evil for the second time, had pulled her away from Bob’s body as it was being torn to shreds by those _things_ , had given them his cabin to save Will while he went off with El to close the gate to another dimension. Through the whole, ridiculous, unbelievable, terrifying ordeal, he’d been there. That sort of bond…it wasn’t easily thrown away, and maybe this was just her mind’s way of rationalizing it. Of _course_ she’d want to depend on him after that. That made total sense! And of course knowing how protective he was over all of them, how much he cared about Will and Jonathan and of course El, would make her already latent attraction to him grow. Of course she’d see how tall and broad he was compared to her much smaller stature and think of him naturally as a protector. That was just - that was just evolution, right? And of course she’d go from there to thinking about how amazing his beard might feel between her—

_Snap out of it!!_ She thinks to herself, clearing her head with a little shake. This was getting ridiculous. She was already dreaming about him at night, she couldn’t be doing it at work, too! She felt like some sex starved hussy, which in turn made her feel guilty for guilting herself about her own sexual urges which were totally natural for a woman, which in turn made her feel guilty about having any sexual urges at _all_ with Bob being gone.  

She’s…she’s pretty much a mess, basically. 

“Joyce.”

She’s gotta get it under control. And she _would_ be able to if it weren’t for the aggravating fact that he might just have feelings for her too, which is completely terrifying and a hundred times worse…

“Hey…Joyce.”

God what must he think of her? Leaning in to kiss him a month after Bob’s death? Oh god, what if he thinks she’s easy? And how could she expect him to deal with all of her problems when he’s got enough on his plate as it is?? She hasn’t seen him since the cabin and he’d called her at work yesterday and she’d blown him off after he’d offered to bring her food, god he must think she’s awful- 

“ _Joyce_ ,” she's snapped out of her thoughts again by a voice calling her name and a hand, gentle, on her arm. 

She looks up to see Jim Hopper’s concerned face staring back at her. 

“Hey,” he says softly. _Oh Jesus,_ she thinks. He obviously came in while she was trying to not think about him.  

“Hey,” she replies, pulling her arm out of the gentle cradle of his big palm and putting it underneath the counter. She gives a little shake of her head. “Sorry - hey, Hop,” she starts over, breathing out a laugh.  

“You okay?” he asks slowly, still giving her that worried look.  

“Yeah, of course!” she waves off. “We’ve just been - crazy busy all day. Just daydreaming in a lull, that’s all.” She takes a big deep breath. “Saw um - saw you fighting with Sam Echolls, he’s getting pretty riled up, huh?” 

He’s quiet for just a minute, looking at her like if he had enough time he might just be able to figure out what’s going on in her head, before nodding. “Yeah, he’s doing his best to be a pain in my ass, in any case. He acts like the new speed limit’s turned main street into the Indy 500, says the extra ten miles means people can’t see his sign. Fucking ridiculous.” 

“Well, good for you for keeping him in line, Chief,” she teases with a smile. _Good, Joyce, she thinks. This is normal, just act normal._ She’s rewarded by one of his little smiles in return and has to clench her thighs together. _Okay, on second though normal was a bad idea._  

“Yeah,” he says. “Listen I uh - I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour.” 

_Ohgodohgodohgod_ “Sure, anything. What’s up?”

“I uh…I need to get Christmas decorations for a Christmas Tree.”

She frowns in confusion. “…Okay?”

“It’s just - you know, I’m not really known for my Christmas spirit and it might look, uh - a little unusual for me to be going all out buying lights and ornaments and whatnot for the first time in years.” _Oh, of course,_ she thinks, before feeling awfully sad for him. _Has he not had a Christmas Tree since moving back to Hawkins?_  

He continues, but not before surreptitiouslylooking around to make sure no one’s standing close enough to hear their conversation. “But Ellie is uh…she’s really gunning for the works and I wanna make sure she gets ‘em, so I was hoping you could maybe pick a bunch of stuff up for me. I’ll pay you for it, obviously.” 

“Oh - yeah, no, of course, Hop- I will, definitely. No problem,” she answers, happy to help sweet El have the best Christmas possible. 

“Great,” he says. “Whatever you, uh - whatever you think is best, I’m sure will be fine. She likes um. Lots of colours and just. she’s sort of over the top so I think probably more rather than less is better.” 

“Okay, sure - I’ll make sure I get a whole bunch,” she says.

“I’ll just pop over and grab it when you've got it,” he says, and then backtracks a little. “Or, you know if that’s not - I don’t have to come over, I could just…or Jonathan could drop-”

“No, it’s fine - I’ll bring them to you,” she hears herself saying. _What??_  

“What?” he asks, clearly surprised by her answer. 

“Yeah, why don't - why don’t I bring Will with me, he loves decorating the tree and making Christmas ornaments, he can teach El how to make them. And it’ll be good for them…to spend some time together,” she says. _What are you doing????_  

He looks surprised still, but pleased, and his reaction makes her feel warm inside in a way that should be illegal. “Alright,” he says. “Sure, that sounds good. You just - you just let me know when, okay?” 

“Right,” she says. “I will.”

He leaves then, right after making her promise she’ll take her lunch today. Once he’s satisfied that she's not just saying yes to get him off her case, he tips his head at her and walks back out through the front door. She thinks he might have just a little more spring in his step than when he came in.

…On second thought that might just be because she stares at his ass the entire time he walks back across the street. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again friends! I'm so happy you all liked chapter one - it's very exciting to see so many of you subscribed to this fic! I hope I can live up to all your expectations, haha. In this chapter we pop into Joyce's headspace for a little bit which was really fun to write. Also everyone's favourite Karen Wheeler makes an appearance! Some notes:
> 
> *The song referenced at the beginning of the chapter is _Christmas Wrapping_ by The Waitresses. It came out during the first real explosion of hip hop music in the early 80's and is more rapped than sung; the title is a play on 'Christmas Rapping'.
> 
> * I'm using the real December 1984 calendar, so December 2nd really was a Sunday, and so on and so forth.


	3. December 5th & 6th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright you crazy kids, here's another chapter! It's extra long (two days in this one!) so I hope you all enjoy. We get some Will and Jonathan POV as I slowly expand our cast of characters. Thank you again to all of you for your continued enthusiasm for this little story and your lovely comments! They really do make my day. :)
> 
> Another little note - this fic _will_ change in rating, I'm just not a hundred percent sure when. We get a little bit of some adult daydreaming in this chapter but I've left it at a 'T' for now. Please let me know if you think it ought to be higher at this point.
> 
> sorry, another quick note - in this universe, Will is gay. I think the show has given enough hints to suggest that is also gay in canon, so I haven't coded this fic as AU.

** December 5th **

 

 

Yesterday he’d brought home a fake tree. He’d been in South Bend again to file some documents at the courthouse there and had stopped on the way home to pick one up. Not even a little one, a _big_ one - ‘top of the line model’ the sales clerk had said. He’d felt pretty damn proud of himself walking into the cabin with it but upon showing El the box, he’d gotten a slightly different reaction than he’d hoped.

She’d looked at the box like it was from another planet, her expression skeptical. “What…is it?” she’d asked.

He’d held out his arms. “It’s a Christmas Tree!” 

Her eyebrows had furrowed into little divots. “This…” she’d pointed at the picture of the big beautiful tree on the front of the box, “…is in there?”

“Yeah - you’ve got to put it together, Kid.”

“…But there are trees everywhere already put together,” she’d said, like he might be a little slow in the head. 

“…well…right, but - most people get a fake tree for Christmas.” This was the wrong thing to say, apparently.

“ _fake??”_ Her eyes could not possibly have gotten any wider.

“Yeah, fake - look, lemme just put this together, and you’ll see.” So he’d done that, but the plastic fir needles had decidedly unimpressed her. 

“Why can’t we have one of _those,_ ” she’d asked, gesturing outside to the forest of pine and fir trees surrounding the cabin. 

“Because…because this was expensive,” he’d answered.

“But those trees are _free_ ,” she’d quipped back. He’d sighed, long sufferingly, looking at her earnest expression, before giving in. The kid had a point, after all. 

“Alright,” he’d relented, immediately graced with an excited smile. “But I gotta buy a new saw before we try and cut one down.”

So that's why he’s here, morning of his day off, driving over to the hardware store to get a new saw. He's not looking forward to dealing with Sam Echolls after Sunday’s incident, but unless he wants to drive back to South Bend today he’s just gonna have to. As he gets into town he’s surprised by the number of kids around - last time he checked it was still Wednesday, and school was still on for another few weeks. He finds a spot, and when he gets out and goes to slam the door he spots Jonathan and Will walking down the sidewalk. 

He sees the moment they spot him too, gives them a nod and waves them over as he takes out a cigarette.

“Is everyone playing hooky today or something?” he asks them in lieu of a greeting.

“It’s a PA day,” Will says, smiling. “We’re starting some Christmas shopping,” he goes on, lifting his hands slightly to show Hopper the few bags he’s holding.

“What are you up to today?” Jonathan asks.

“El wants a Christmas Tree so I need a new saw,” he answers, pulling out his lighter and shielding the flame from the wind until it catches.

“Why don’t you just pick up a tree instead?” Jonathan asks.

“Yeah…I tried that already,” He answers a bit sheepishly, “she’s really set on the real thing, so…at any rate I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s good of you, Hopper,” Jonathan says quietly. “I guess it’s her first real Christmas, huh?”

He nods, takes a long drag and turns his face to the side to blow the smoke away. “Listen, speaking of Christmas,” he starts, “what are you boys getting your mom?”

Will and Jonathan glance at each other before looking at him with identical raised eyebrows. It’s Jonathan who answers.

“Uh…why?” it’s not hostile, just a quiet sort of confusion. 

“Because she needs a new coat,” he says, watching their expressions. He doesn’t…he doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries here but he can’t keep watching Joyce run around in that ratty old thing that wouldn’t keep the breeze out on a summers’ day.

“A Coat?” Will asks, his younger voice more earnest. He looks at Jonathan, concerned. They definitely don’t have enough to get her a coat. “We got her-”

“We always get her stuff, Hopper,” Jonathan finishes for him. 

“Yeah, I know that - you’re good boys, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying - _she needs a new coat._ That brown one she always wears does jack shit in this weather. Pick something out, something _nice,”_ he stresses, “Ask Nancy if you have to, and I’ll give you the money for it.”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “That’s…Mom’s never gonna go for that,” he breathes out, shaking his head. “If she found out we took money from you to buy it she’d just return it and give you back the cash.”

“Yeah, which is why,” he continues, lowering his voice and speaking slowly the way he sometimes does when he really wants to get his point across, “she’s not. going. to find out. _Is_ she?” 

“She’d look nice in a fur coat, hey Jonathan?” Will asks earnestly, his face shining with possibilities of what their mom might like. 

Jonathan feels his face fall, tries to keep his expression neutral. _A fur coat?_ There’s no way the Chief meant for them to spend that kind of money. “Will, that’s not what Hop means-”

“All I said is something nice,” the Chief interrupts. “Fur, whatever, it doesn’t matter - just…she’s always running around for all of us, she should have a coat that keeps her warm. That’s all. I don’t care about the price,” he goes on, looking right at Jonathan. “Just…if it’s warm and you think she’ll like it, get it. I mean it.”

Jonathan watches Hopper throw his cigarette to the ground, regards him thoughtfully as he grinds the butt of it down into the pavement. He turns to Will. “Hey buddy, wait in the car for me a minute okay?” He hands him the keys. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Will waves his goodbye to Hopper, and both he and the Chief watch Will walk down the sidewalk, keeping their eyes on him until he’s safely in the passenger seat of the LTO.

“That’s all?” he asks, turning back to face the Chief.

“Huh?”

“That’s all this is - a new coat?” And again, it’s not - he’s not mad, not aggressive, he’s just trying to figure out what’s really going on. Because he has a pretty good idea, even if Hopper and his mom seem to have no fucking clue. Hopper is giving him that look again, that look that’s supposed to be his _I ask the questions around here kid_ look.

“That’s _all_ ,” Hop answers, slowly, quietly. Jonathan almost laughs - _god, they’re both in deep_ , he thinks to himself. He nods, a bunch of times.

“Alright,” he says, scuffing his shoe on the sidewalk a bit. “You should take her out, though.” Hopper’s head snaps up.

“ _What?_ ”

“You should take her out,” he repeats, enjoying the bewildered expression on the Chief’s face way too much. 

“ _Listen_ , kid-” Hopper starts, but he’s already walking away. “She likes Italian!” he yells over his shoulder, and seeing the Chief stand there totally floored keeps a smile on his face the entire walk down the block to the car.

Hopper, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about what Jonathan's said. He thinks about it the entire time he's in the hardware store; he stands there in front of the saws for fifteen minutes until Sam Echolls finally comes over and asks what kind of saw he was looking for, and he answers  _Italian_ like a goddamn idiot.

_You should take her out_. Like it’s that easy?? He couldn’t just _take her out_ , there were things to consider. Many things. She was still grieving Bob. She wasn't even taking his calls a few days ago! _But she wanted to come over and help you and El with the tree when you went to see her in Melvald’s_ , his mind unhelpfully supplies. _That’s true_ he reasons with himself. _She did invite herself over_. But not to-not for _that_ , he quickly clarifies to himself, not wanting to get too caught up with what _that_ might entail. _But she almost kissed you_ his traitorous mind reminds him. _That did happen_ , he reasons. _It’s not like you imagined her hands on your face and her leaning into you._ But she’d bolted right after and they hadn’t mentioned it since then - it’s very possible she was just…confused. Emotional, he thinks. Exhausted after helping take care of El. _Yeah,_ he thinks. _She probably didn’t even know what she was doing._ But then Jonathan was practically _encouraging_ him this afternoon! _Take her out,_ he thinks, scoffing. The _last_ thing he needs is the kids deciding to meddle into this. He’s doing just fine a job meddling it up on his own, thank you very much. 

All he needs to do is just get through Christmas, he reckons, turning off the road and onto the lane that leads to the cabin. The holiday spirit is giving him all sorts of lofty ideas that aren’t based in reality and he isn’t going to let his solid, dependable relationship with Joyce suffer because he can’t stop thinking about how porcelain pale her skin is and how deeply it would flush with his hands on her, or what sound she might make if he licked a stripe up the slender column of her neck, or how her slim legs might feel wrapped around his waist. He just - he just has to keep his dick in his fucking pants and his mind out of the gutter, because the woman deserves some fucking peace and by god, he’s gonna give it to her. 

_Keep things friendly and platonic, Hopper_ , he thinks to himself, parking the blazer and starting the trek to the house. 

_Friendly and platonic_ , he thinks as he and El traipse through the woods, looking for their tree.

_Friendly and platonic_ , he thinks as El finally selects the perfect one, watches him chop it down, and then levitates it back to the cabin. 

_Friendly and platonic_ , he thinks as Joyce gets him on the radio, says _she thinks she has enough decorations and would tomorrow be okay for her and Will to come over?_

 _Absolutely,_ he answers. _Can’t wait._

 

  
****

**December 6th**

 

 

Will had helped his mom with picking out the decorations for El and Hopper’s Christmas Tree. At first she had seemed a bit hesitant after seeing everything he thought they should get.

“Will…” she’d said, staring at the pile of Christmas decorations he’d accumulated in his cart. “Do you think…this might be a little much?”

“Hopper said get more than less, right?” he’d reasoned. “And she won’t know what she likes if she only sees a few kinds of lights and ornaments.” 

She’d relented, and honestly it was all for the better. He loved his mom more than he thought possible, but she wasn’t exactly an interior decorator. Oh, she loved beautiful things, but she wasn’t the kind to put it all together for herself. He _always_ did their Christmas tree at home;he spent time thinking over how he’d want it to look, making sketches of new paper ornaments to try and plotting out colours and placement. Liking those things might be weird any other time of year, but most people, even _guys_ , got excited about Christmas trees and houses all made up with decorations so it wasn’t as bad during the holidays. 

He’d picked out a couple different colour schemes for El to choose from, paying attention to their little details and textures and picking out corresponding ribbons and lights. He was the last of their group to get to know El but even so, he felt a real kinship with her. They’d both had experiences with the Upside Down that no one else could really understand, and technically she’d saved his life twice. She didn’t make him feel bad about it though, or like he needed to pay her back. Sometimes when he was with his friends it could be a bit tiring - when they were all together it was so high energy and being _on_ all the time could be difficult. But with El, just like with Mike, he could sit and be quiet with her and not have it be weird. She was quiet too - a little more intense, although he knew some of that was her just soaking up as much information as she could. She was also the only person he knew his age who he could sort of share his love of art and design and pretty things with. A few days after they had closed the gate, he and his mom and Jonathan had gone back to the cabin to help straighten things out and clean up after that _thing_ had left his body and half destroyed the place. While he was there he’d seen that Nancy must have come over with a bunch of things for El, including a whole stack of _Seventeen, Sassy_ , and even some _Vogue_ ’s that probably came from Nancy’s mom. After they’d finished cleaning and Jonathan had left to go hang out with Nancy, he and his mom stayed behind. She’d shared a pot of coffee with Hopper in the kitchen and he and El had retreated back to her room and had torn through the magazines. They’d flipped through page after page looking at what sort of things she liked. She didn't think his opinions or interest were weird- she’d welcomed them and it had been almost surreal, getting to share that side of himself he almost always kept hidden, especially with someone his own age. 

He had an idea of what kinds of things she was drawn to - she tended towards brighter colours, prints and patterns. Her taste varied from punk all the way to new romanticism, and she favoured looks with exaggerated details: a swath of pink eyeshadow creeping across the lid and into the hairline; an oversized checkered blazer cinched with a wide red patent leather belt; neon yellow and pastel blue exercise outfits with pink leg warmers; and the almost aggressive styling of punk haircuts. Will thought she must be sort of making up for a decade staring at white walls.

They pile everything in the car and Will can’t help but notice how his mom shivers in the cold air even with her coat on. “How did the Chief notice that about Mom and we didn’t?” he’d asked Jonathan in the car after they’d run into Hopper and had the conversation about the coat.

“Because we’re not watching her like Hopper does,” he’d answered.

“What do you mean?” he’d asked.

Jonathan had looked at him, a funny little smile on his face like there was a laugh caught in his throat he was trying hard not to let out. “What’s so funny?” he’d asked.

“ _Will_ ,” he’d said. “You really don’t see it?”

“See what?” He’d asked back, starting to feel like there was some big inside joke Jonathan knew that he didn’t. 

“Hopper’s into Mom.” 

He’d given Jonathan a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

Jonathan really had laughed, then. “Buddy, guys don’t offer to buy coats for women when they’re just friends. He noticed it because he’s always looking at her, because he likes her.” At seeing Will’s continued confused expression, he’d gone on.

“Why else do you think the Chief went to every single appointment you had at the lab?”

Will had felt his brow furrowing, starting to think about it. “Because…because he helped find me and he was worried,” he’d answered.

“Sure,” Jonathan had said. “Worried, definitely, but - _every appointment?”_ he’d asked, leaning forward over the wheel as if to emphasize his point. “Every appointment for almost a _year_?” 

He hadn’t really had an answer to that one. Sure Hopper came to every appointment, and sure he…he sometimes opened up the car door for his mom or helped her….put on her coat. And sure, before Mom starting seeing Bob sometimes he’d come over to spend time with her, but…that was just because they were friends, right? 

“But mom…Mom doesn’t like Hopper,” he’d said, and had been answered by another one of Jonathan’s little breathy laughs. “She was dating Bob!”

“I’m not saying Mom didn’t really like Bob,” Jonathan had said. “But…you know how…sometimes it’s easier to do one thing because you think it’s what you should want, you know?” He’d been quiet, then. _He did know._

Jonathan had went on. “Bob seemed like the kind of guy Mom thought she should be with. He was really nice and dependable and just… _normal_ , you know? Just an ordinary guy. He was a safe choice,” he’d said. “And it totally makes sense after everything that happened and with Dad being such a fucking asshole. I’m just not sure Bob would have made her really happy. Mom’s not…she’s not ordinary, you know? She's _special._ She deserves someone who can really make her feel special.”

“You think the Chief makes her feel special?” He’d asked.

Jonathan had been quiet a minute, stopped at a light waiting for it to turn green. “….I dunno, buddy,” he’d finally finished. “I just know I never saw Mom look at Bob the way she looks at Hopper when she thinks he’s not looking.” Jonathan had turned to him when he hadn't said anything, lost in his own thoughts. 

“Just…pay attention the next time you see them,” he’d finished, and Will’s been thinking about it ever since.

This trip to the cabin is the perfect opportunity to do some _light recon_ as Dustin would call it, and he isn’t going to waste it.

“So this’ll be pretty exciting for El, huh?” he asks his Mom as they settle into the car and start the drive over. 

“Oh, I think so,” she says, a big smile on her face. “Can you imagine? Having your first real Christmas!” He nods. 

“It’s pretty great of Hopper to do this for her,” he says casually, watching her face out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she says. _Hmm. Not much of a reaction._ He goes on.

“We saw him the other day in town, he was buying a new saw so he could cut El down a real tree.” Will watches his Mom’s eyebrows raise. 

“Wow,” she says. “That _is_ nice of him,” she says. _Okay Will,_ he thinks. _Time for the big guns._

“Do you think he’ll manage it?”

“Hmm? Manage what, baby?”

“To cut down a tree. Just him.”

“Oh, well-” she stops, her mouth open like she’s looking for words. 

“Because it seems like it’d be pretty hard,” he goes on. He weighs the pros and cons of actually saying what he wants to say next. Is it too much? Too cheesy? He guesses there’s only one way to find out. “I guess you’d have to be pretty strong to do it, but the Chief looks like he would probably be okay right?” He watches his mom’s face start to take on the colour of a strawberry. 

“Well - definitely, I mean….I think Hopper could - I mean, I think…I think he would be able to do it,” she stammers out. He eyes her face carefully until she turns to face him suddenly and he has to quickly school his expression into a smile. “Oh, well, that’s good,” he says. “It would suck to get there and have there be no tree,” he finishes. He has to admit, that was pretty suspicious. The blushing and the stammering definitely put a tick in the ‘Yes’ category for ‘Does Mom like Hopper’. 

They drive up to the Forests’ edge and make their way across the woods to the clearing. When they get to the cabin, El and Hopper are already waiting outside. The Chief is sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette and El looks to him, waits for his nod before scampering out to meet them. She greets his mom first, who bends down to give her a big hug. “Hi Joyce,” she says quietly. “Hi sweetie,” his mom says, her face beaming. “How are you feeling? You look so much better,” she says, sweeping her hand across El’s forehead and curly hair. 

“Good,” El says, and then- “Better”.

She turns to him next, gives him one of her little smiles. “Hi El,” he says, and she gives him a hug next. “Hi,” she says. 

“Are you all planning to freeze out there or is anybody actually coming in?” Hopper shouts from the porch.

“Come see our tree,” El says, tugging his arm along.

“We brought you tons of decorations for it,” he says to her. “And I brought a bunch of art supplies so we can make stuff too, if you want.” She eagerly nods her head and he feels his chest puff up at helping make her first Christmas so special. 

They all make it to the porch where the Chief is standing now, stubbing out his cigarette. “Hey buddy,” he says to him, before turning to his Mom. Will does his best to watch them without calling attention to himself. 

“Hey,” Hopper says, softly, walking forward just a bit towards her. He watches his mom smile, shuffle the bags she’s holding in her arms. “Hey, Hop,” she says back, and Will watches them just sort of… _look_ at each other for a couple seconds. They don’t hug or move closer to each other which is a little suspicious because his mom’s a hugger. The Chief clears his throat. “Thanks, for uh…helping me out with this,” he says.

“Yeah, of course- whatever you guys need,” she says. They just stand there staring at each other and it’s so painful Will honestly can’t believe he’s been totally oblivious until now. Hopper clears his throat again.

“Well, let’s get you all inside before you freeze to death,” he says. He moves to take the bags from his mom. “Here, let me-” he starts, and his mom rushes in with “Oh, no, that’s okay Hop-” and Hopper cuts back in with “Just give them to me Joyce, the least I can do is carry them-” and _oh my god Mom likes Hopper and Hopper likes Mom._

It’s like something straight out of _The Facts of Life_ which he maybe sometimes watches when no one else is home. 

He watches the Chief take the bags and then take his mom’s coat, sees that his Mom’s face is still slightly berry coloured. Then he watches her eyes go wide looking at something behind him. “Oh wow, Hop,” she says. He turns around.

Behind them is a massive fir tree, easily 8 feet tall. It takes up a ton of room but somehow doesn’t overwhelm the room - maybe because the ceilings are so high, maybe because he can see they’ve moved some of the furniture around to make room for it. El runs over to it. “It’s the best tree,” she says proudly.

“Good thing we brought so much,” his mom says. “I wasn’t - I mean I wasn’t expecting a tree _this_ big,” she says, walking over to it. The Chief shrugs sort of sheepishly. “She was dead set on it,” he explains. 

“It must have been tough to cut down,” he pipes in. 

“No, not really,” Hopper says, and he watches the blush on his mom’s face ratchet up a few degrees. “El did the heavy lifting anyway, carrying it home.” El nods, looking as proud as he’s ever seen her. 

“Well,” his mom says, recovered a little bit it seems. “Let’s show you everything we got.”

So they take everything out, spreading it all on the couch and the floor next to the tree. It’s quickly apparent that Hopper has no personal preference for what the tree looks like and is willing to let El have free reign over it, so after he strings up the lights for them (El likes the multicoloured lights, not the white ones) the adults mostly leave he and El to their own devices. 

They sort through everything - El loves the tinsel and they heave tons of the stuff up onto the tree, El using her powers to float it up to the top. He’d chosen lots of variety - red and green ribbon garlands, ornaments in every shape and fabric and size and colour. El asks lots of questions. Some of them ( _What’s a gingerbread man?)_ are easier to answer than others ( _What’s an angel?)._ She has a lot of questions about Santa ( _He makes every toy? How big are elves in real life? Where’s the north pole?)_. When she’d asked the first question he’d seen Hopper’s head shoot up from where he’d been sitting with his mom at the kitchen table and give him a _look_ , and he’d realized it’s because she _believes_ in Santa. He tries to be really thoughtful and careful with his answers and El seems satisfied by them so hopefully he hasn’t ruined anything for her. 

Once all the ornaments they’d bought that El likes are on, he starts to show her how to make some. He brings out the loose leaf paper for paper snowflakes and his mom puts a jiffy pop on the stove so that they can make a popcorn garland. At this point his mom and Hopper decide to go outside for a smoke. He watches his mom go to grab her coat and sees Hopper scoff, walk over to the cupboard and bring out a gigantic plaid blanket. “Hop, it’s fine, really-” his mom starts to protest, but the Chief’s having none of it. 

“No sense in you freezing while we’re out there,” he says, draping the blanket over his mom’s shoulders. She’s completely swallowed up by the thing, and Will watches as Hopper gently turns up the makeshift blanket collar so that it’s closer to her face. They stare at each other for just a moment, and he at them, before they’re all jarred by the sound of the popcorn starting to pop on the stove. Hopper goes over to watch it and his mom takes the opportunity to duck outside, her face aflame once again. _Oh man_ , he thinks. _I have been totally blind._

Hopper brings them a huge bowl of popcorn before heading outside himself, and he and El start their garland. They end up eating a lot of it so they only have enough to cover half the tree, but El still loves it. They make their way through the entire stack of paper, Will showing El how to fold it and draw out the shape. They stick their creations into the tree and when there’s literally no more room they put them all over the beams of the cabin. “Snow,” El says. 

When they finish that, they sit quietly together - he draws and she flips through his big sketchbook he’d brought with him. His mom had said to get his art supplies and he’d just brought the whole lot of it, not really thinking. Normally he doesn’t love people going through his drawings but it’s cool when El does it. She doesn’t just go through it quickly like most people do before saying _‘that’s nice, Will_ ’; she really takes her time looking at each picture, running her fingertips along the images he’s put there. She stops at one of them, looks up at him.

“Who is this?”

He leans over, takes a look. It’s an earlier picture he’d drawn of Bob, as _Bob Newby: Superhero_ before he’d drawn one he liked enough to hang up on the wall. “Oh, he says, “that’s Bob.”

She just looks at him like _…and?_ which makes him realize - of course she wouldn’t know who that is, she hadn’t been here all year or while they’d been in the lab. “Bob was, uh…my mom’s boyfriend. They were dating last year and he was with us when we were all stuck in the lab, when i was…” he trails off a bit. “When I was…you know.” _When that thing was in me,_ he wants to say, but somehow can’t. El just nods. “I know,” she says, a solemn expression on her face. The crazy thing is, she's the one person who he knows really, really means that. 

“Yeah,” he goes on, smiling a little in gratitude and seeing her little smile back. “Anyway, when we were in there Bob, he um…he died,” he says. “He was really brave and went to do something no one else could do to help us escape, and when he was trying to get back, the demodogs got him.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her face fallen. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “He was…he was really great, but it’s…okay. I think my mom, more than anything, you know…it’s harder for her than for me and Jonathan.”

She nods, then stops. “He wasn’t…your papa?” she asks, that look on her face like she’s not quite sure she’s asking the right thing.

“Oh - No, um. He wasn’t my dad, my dad doesn’t live with us. He and Mom aren’t together anymore. Not for a long time.” El nods her head. 

“Divorce,” she says sagely. Will is a bit surprised. “Yeah - where’d you learn about that?” 

“Dynasty,” she says primly. and Will huffs out a laugh. Makes sense, he guesses. “Hopper lets you watch that stuff?” 

“Yes,” she says. “Why?”

“Well…I guess it’s not really for kids,” he says. “Like soap operas and stuff, they’re more for adults to watch. I think my mom would have a cow if she found me watching _Dynasty_ ,” he laughs. 

She raises one eyebrow quizzically. “Have…a cow?” she repeats.

“Oh, yeah - it’s like, um…it’s like when you’re so mad you just go crazy.”

She nods again. “He doesn’t have a cow when I watch them,” she says. “He has cows other times though.” He nods, understandingly. “Parents, right?” he asks wryly, before freezing - _shit_ , he thinks. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

But El just nods. “Parents,” she repeats, and in that moment she could be any other normal teenage girl talking about her dad. It’s…it’s good. It’s good for her to be with Hopper and for them to have each other.

Right at that moment they hear laughter from outside. its Joyce’s, and it sounds crisp and clear as a bell. When he thinks about it he realizes - he hasn’t heard her laugh like that in a long time. 

“Do you think…” he starts, haltingly, before losing his nerve. Maybe he shouldn’t ask El about this. “Actually, never mind. It’s not…nevermind,”

“What?” she asks, in that peculiar way she often does where the ’t’ at the end is so daintily pronounced. 

“I was just…” he starts again, fiddling with a flat reindeer ornament he’d made a couple years ago that his mom had kept. “Does Hopper ever….” he looks at her, hoping she might pick up the thread, but he’s out of luck. 

Both of their heads swivel to the door when they hear another laugh, this time the Chief’s. They slowly look back at each other, and Will sees understanding dawn on El’s face.

“Yes,” she says, very matter of factly. “He loves Joyce.” 

Will can’t stop his eyes from bugging out at that declaration. “Oh! _Wow_ \- um…okay, yeah, I mean…I didn't know… _love_ necessarily, but uh…yeah, I think…my mom too.” he shakes his head as if to clear it after playing what he’s just said back, realizes it sounded like complete gibberish.

“I mean,” he says, "I think my mom really likes him too.” 

El nods her head gravely.“She came here when I was sick,” she says.

“Yeah - Hopper called my radio, I picked it up and he just started yelling for me to get mom. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks,” she says, giving him a little smile. “When she was here they almost kissed.” 

At seeing the completely _shocked_ look on his face, she goes on. “They thought I was sleeping,” she says. ‘I _was_ sleeping before but I woke up, and they were here,” she points to the foot of the bed. “Joyce had her hands like this,” and she walks over on her knees to where Will is sitting across from her, takes her hands and puts them on either side of his face. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. 

“I coughed though,” she says, disappointment evident in her voice. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Will says again. Jonathan’s half sure thoughts on the subject were one thing - having _proof_ was another. “Jonathan’s gonna freak,” he finishes, a sort of half dazed smile on his face.

“Bad?” El asks, not quite sure what he means.

“Oh - no, not in a bad way. I mean - people can freak out in a bad way but sometimes it just means, like - you’re really excited about something. He’s gonna be excited that he’s right.” 

“He looks happier when Joyce is here,” El says.

“Hopper?” She nods. 

“Yeah,” Will says. “I think my mom is happier when he’s around too. I just don’t know if they’ll get it together.” At her confused look, he explains. “Like…most people are stupid when they love someone. It can be really hard to tell the other person you like them and so a lot of the time people don’t say anything.”

“That’s sad,” El says.

“Yeah,” he agrees, before thinking about it for a minute. “It seems kinda wrong though, to just wait for them to try and figure it out, right? When we could sort of…maybe help them along.”

“How?” El asks.

“Well,” he says, thinking. “We would need help, I think. We’d need to get everyone in on it. Like…like a dungeons and dragons campaign. It doesn’t work if you do it alone, you need the whole party.” El nods at him intently, looking like she’s ready to start right now.

“We could call it…operation mistletoe!” he says brightly, thinking of how they could get started, how everyone could help out. But when he looks back at El, she's staring at him confused. 

“…what’s mistletoe?” she asks. 

He can't help but laugh. “We'll work on that,” he says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The Facts of Life_ was a long running 80's sitcom that was a spinoff of _Diff'rent Strokes_. It was about life at Eastland School, a fictional all girls boarding school in Peekskill, New York. 
> 
> _Jiffy Pop_ used to be hugely popular before being replaced by the much more easy to make microwave popcorn bags. All the kernels sat in a tin foil skillet that you put on the stove, and as it heated up the top of the tin foil rose up into this great big balloon that the kernels popped in. If you've never seen it (or any of the movies from the 80's or 90's that feature it) you have to look it up. It's amazing!


	4. The Week of December 9th (Operation Mistletoe: Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NEW CHAPTER - IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE! Initially I wanted to finish this fic before Christmas but unfortunately real life intervened: I've taken on a new job in addition to my other work and it's got me completely swamped. This was definitely the hardest chapter to write in the whole story so far, what with all the different voices of the kids in it, and it was tripping me up a little bit. I'm still not 100% happy with it but I'm posting it now as the best I could muster! I have a significant portion of the rest of the story already written, so never fear - I promise this will absolutely not be abandoned. :) Thanks so much to those of you who are reading and sending kudos and writing comments, they make my day and you are all so sweet. I won't post again before Christmas so to those of you who celebrate, wishing you all a wonderful holiday with family and loved ones!!
> 
> PS: I'm never a song fic type of person, but one piece of music definitely influenced the feel of this chapter. It's worth a liisten to, especially during the parts where the kids are all scheming together. It's called 'Changes' from The Parent Trap (1998) instrumental score, available on youtube. A better song has never been written to illustrate scheming kids. If you do listen, let me know in the comments!

** The Week of December 9th **

** (Operation Mistletoe: Part I) **

 

 

He radios home Sunday afternoon from Indianapolis, where he’d had to appear in court to _tes…ti..fy_ about something, and lets her know he’s going to be late. The _trial_ is going to take one more day, so he won’t be home tonight. 

“I’m sorry El,” he says, and she can hear the frustration in his voice. They were going to watch _Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom_. “Joyce is going to take you to her house for the night.”

“Okay,” she says, feeling a smile start to stretch across her face. 

“Don’t be too upset with me, okay kid?” She has to remember to sound disappointed to _keep up appearances,_ which is something she’s learned from her new favourite show, _Murder She Wrote_. “I’ll try,” she says, sighing a little bit for good measure. “Maybe we can watch it tomorrow.” He tells her _sure thing, Kid,_ and _be good for Joyce okay?_ and _I’ll be home tomorrow_ before cutting the line. 

Right away she radios Will on his walkie talkie. 

“He’s in Indi…an…apolis tonight” she says instead of hello once he’s picked up. 

“Oh! That’s perfect. Are you coming here?” he asks, and she can hear that he’s excited. 

“Joyce will come get me,” she says. 

“Okay - this is great. I’ll tell everyone to come over. We’ll start tonight!”

El nods to herself, even though Will can’t see it. “Operation Mistletoe is a _go_ ,” she says, feeling very much like Jessica Fletcher putting a plan in place to catch a murderer. They’ve been waiting days for an opportunity to get everyone together and start the campaign, and this trial in Indianapolis is just the thing they needed.

El gets herself ready, and an hour or so later she hears Joyce walking up the cabin steps, rapping out the secret knock against the wood. El opens the door and is right there, packed and ready with her coat on and her clothes and supplies in a rucksack.

“Oh! Hi sweetheart,” Joyce says. “Are you all ready? We don’t have to rush out if there’s anything else you want to grab.”

El shakes her head. “No,” she says. “There’s nothing else I need.” Joyce smiles at her and leans over to adjust her scarf, fussing with it in that way she does that identifies her as a mother.

“Okay then,” she says. “We’ve got macaroni for dinner, Will’s request. Have you had that before?” She shakes her head _nope_ as Joyce ushers them outside and leads them out to her car. Joyce asks her lots of questions like how she’s been doing and if she’s still coughing at all and if she’s been learning anything interesting lately and what she likes on tv. Joyce asks questions and listens like she really cares about the answer, which makes a warm feeling spread through her chest like syrup over Eggos. 

As they walk and Joyce continues talking in her soft voice, El can’t help but look up at her and smile. _Oh, Joyce_ , she thinks. _Sweet, sweet Joyce._ Will’s mom is the best lady she’s ever met, and she knows Poppa (which is what she calls him now but _only_ in her head because even though she knows it would be fine it makes her feel nervous too) could make her happy. He’s not perfect but he takes care of everyone and he could take care of Joyce too. Why shouldn’t Joyce and Poppa get to kiss each other whenever they wanted instead of being miserable? _They just need a little help_ , she thinks, smiling to herself. 

They get to the house and El sees another car in the driveway and a bunch of bikes on the side of the road. Joyce laughs. “Looks like we’ve got company,” she says, pulling in. 

Joyce ushers her inside out of the cold and the minute they’re in the hallway she’s greeted by a cacophony of voices all rushing to greet her. It’s a little overwhelming, still, having so many people know her and talking around her, but she’s getting a little better at handling it each time. Will, of course, and Jonathan are there, and Nancy and Steve. Dustin and Lucas and Max, too. She gives everyone a hug (even Max, who she likes a lot more now because she knows Max likes Lucas and also that they both like _Murder She Wrote_ ) and saves the best for last. Mike’s hung back, off to the side, his lips pressed together like there’s a smile waiting to burst out. Joyce starts ushering the rest of the group out of the hallway and he waits until they’ve mostly fallen back to Will’s room before walking forward.

“Hi,” he says softly, coming up to her. 

“Hi,” she answers, winding her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. They stay like that for a long time, not noticing Joyce’s soft but watchful gaze from the kitchen. 

“I missed you,” she whispers, and she feels him squeeze her in return. 

“I missed you too,” he says into her neck. “I’m sorry you were so sick and that I wasn’t there.”

She pulls away a little bit so she can look at him. “You _were_ there,” she says. 

He lets out a little frustrated sound. “No, not just the radio - I mean _really_ there.” he says. Poppa hadn’t let anyone come over until she was ‘ _One hundred percent better El, and I mean it - not ninety eight percent, not ninety nine percent, one hundred percent_ ’ better. So she hadn’t seen Mike for a while even though she’d talked to him on the radio every day.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. He doesn’t look convinced, glancing down, so she goes on. “Friends don’t lie, remember?”

That brings a little smile to his face. “Yeah,” he says. “I remember.” El looks over her shoulder and sees Joyce in the kitchen - not hovering but still there - and thinks its safe enough to do what she wants to do. She leans forward and presses her lips, once, softly, to Mike’s. It’s just a small kiss but it makes her stomach jump around like she’s on a _roller coaster_ at an _uh..muse..ment park_ which, according to poppa, is, _‘where people pay way too much money to be scared shitless on purpose’_. Mike leans into it, presses his nose into her cheek; the tip of it is cold just like she knew it would be and for some reason, knowing this silly thing about him that no one else would know, gives her _goose..bumps_ up and down her arms. 

Joyce’s little throat clear from the kitchen makes them pull apart, and they both turn to see her smiling knowingly at them as she dries an oven pan with a small towel. 

“ _MIKE! EL! COME OOONNN!”_ They hear Dustin scream from Will’s room. Mike’s cheeks are red but he grabs her hand and links their fingers together as they walk down the hall to rejoin the group. 

Inside his room, Will’s sitting on the floor with a big notepad. Max and Lucas are next to him and Dustin’s sitting in Will’s wheeled desk chair, spinning it around. Jonathan and Nancy are on the bed sitting close together, and Steve’s there too, with his head in Nancy’s lap and his feet propped up against the wall. 

She and Mike take seats on the floor as Will begins to speak. 

“Okay,” he says. “So…basically, we’re all here because Jonathan and I, and El too, we think that, um - well, so, the thing is, our mom, right? I mean - not _El’s_ mom but, just, _our_ mom-”

“We think Mom and Hopper ought to get together,” Jonathan interrupts gently, from his spot on the bed. The group reacts all at once:

“Oh, well _duh.”_

_“_ Dude I totally called this. Didn't I call this?”

“They’d be so cute together.”

“ _I_ called it Lucas, you’re always taking credit-”

“No I’m _not_ Idiot, It was one hundred percent me-”

Jonathan clears his throat to get the groups attention, and El notices that it’s the same little sound that Joyce often makes. “Alright, so - everyone’s sort of noticed it I guess, and some stuff has happened lately that’s definitely proved it’s true.” He tells the group the story about Hopper telling them to buy Joyce a coat for Christmas, which she’d already heard from Will but is new to the rest of them. Then she gets to tell her story about seeing Poppa and Joyce almost kiss, which everyone freaks out about. She’s gotten a lot better at speaking, especially for longer amount of time, and it makes her chest swell up to see everyone react so well to how she tells the story. Next to her Mike looks at her proudly and squeezes her hand tightly after she finishes talking. 

“The problem is,” Jonathan says from his spot on the bed, “If we leave it to them, nothing’s ever gonna happen. I mean, I know our mom and she just isn’t gonna risk anything like that. And the Chief is just…the Chief, right, so we can’t see him stepping up and admitting he wants to be with her. So…we just think they might need a little help,” he says. 

“Operation Mistletoe!” Will says excitedly, cutting back in. 

Across from her, Lucas’ eyebrows draw in, a skeptical look on his face. “What, like…matchmaking?”

“More like… _The Parent Trap_ ,” Will answers, looking at her. She understands that reference - Will had explained about the movie a little earlier in the week, when they were talking on the radio. She doesn’t really believe that Susan and _S_ haron were _both_ played by the same person, but Will had sworn that it was true. 

Nancy gasps delightedly. “Oh my god, I used to love that movie,” she says. “I used to watch it and wish that I had a twin sister instead of Mike.”

Next to her, Mike rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Nancy,” he grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind it. 

“Guys,” Steve pipes up from Nancy’s lap. “This is not a good idea.” 

He’s met by the _are you kidding me_ stares of everyone else in the room. 

“You don’t think they’re into each other?” Mike asks, looking at him like he’s simple. 

Steve scoffs. “Oh - yeah, no, those two _totally_ wanna bone.”

“Oh my _god_ -”

“Jesus _Christ_ Steve-”

“Can we not talk about anybody _boning_ our mom, please??”

“What?” Steve asks, arms akimbo, after Nancy’s thumped him on the chest. “They totally do!”

“Okay, we _get it_ -”

“What I’m _trying to say_ ,” Steve interrupts again, “is that while, yeah, the Chief totally wants to bang Mrs. B,” he’s met here with another spate of groans and eye rolls, “that doesn’t mean we should be messing around in their lives.” 

“Uh, yeah, it does” Dustin says, “because old people have no clue what they’re doing.

Plus you’re only worried that if we fuck up the Chief won’t hire you after you take your deputy’s exam.”

Steve lifts his head up quickly, red in the face. “I told you that _in confidence!”_ He hisses, as the group reacts in surprise. 

“When did you decide to take the Deputy’s exam??” Nancy asks.

“I’m just saying, it explains your uncharacteristically cowardly approach!” Dustin tries to explain, moving back in the chair and almost tipping it.

“You’d make a sick deputy,” Lucas nods.

“Guys,” Will says, trying to regain some order.

“If you’re a deputy will you give us rides in your cruiser?” Max asks.

“ _Guys,”_ he says again.

“If you’re a deputy will you be like, legally obligated to bust us if we do something illegal?” Mike asks, and Steve quickly turns to him, an incredulous look on his face.

“ _Yes_ you little shit and what the hell would you be doing that’s illegal??”

“GUYS!” El shouts, the lights flickering a little with her outburst. This calms everyone down, makes them turn to face her and Will. 

“Operation mistletoe,” she reminds them pertly. 

“What’s the harm in trying?” Nancy says sensibly from the bed. “After all, what could really go wrong? If they do like each other, it’ll help them figure it out. And if they don’t, well, then it’ll just peter out and they’ll never really be the wiser.” The group nods along. 

“Plus,” she goes on, “I think we definitely owe it to Joyce after the year she’s had and how much she’s had to put up with. I mean…who else is going to make sure she has a great Christmas if not us?” 

“Okay,” Will says, looking around to all of them. “So…is everyone on board? Operation Mistletoe?”

“Definitely,” Dustin says.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Max echoes. When Lucas says nothing next to her, she nudges her elbow into his side forcing an eye roll and a groan, before he agrees as well, with an indulgent smile.

“I’m in, obviously,” Nancy says, leaning over and resting her forehead against Jonathan’s for a brief moment. 

From beside her, Mike nods his assent. “Your mom definitely deserves to be happy,” he says to Will, and El feels a smile stretching across her face. 

All of them turn to face the only member of the party who hasn’t yet agreed. 

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve says. 

“Yeah, if by terrible you mean amazing,” Mike answers. Steve sighs, long and drawn out, before finally nodding his head. “What the hell?” he says. “But if this fucks up my Deputy chances, you’ll _all_ be pitching in to support my gambling habit in Reno.” 

Will is positively beaming from his spot on the floor. “Okay then,” he says. “Operation Mistletoe is a go!” The whole group whoops and cheers.

“So,” Will goes on, after the cheers have died down. “Anyone have any ideas?”

 

****

As it turns out, no, they don’t have any ideas. That first day they really only manage a semi decent map of downtown Hawkins with little stick figures of the Chief and Mrs. Byers drawn into their respective locations, and a large piece of bristle board with _WHAT WOMEN LIKE?????_ written on top with nothing under it. They can’t quite figure out what might work to actually force Mrs. Byers and the Chief together. A rewatch of the parent trap does nothing to help except further convince El that Will is _not_ right, and that it absolutely _cannot_ be one person playing both sisters. 

It’s Mike who has the first good idea, the next day. “Our mom reads a ton of cheesy romance novels,” he says over the radio. “She’s always leaving them all over the place. We’ll grab some and bring them to Will’s - there’s gotta be something in there we can use!”

The day after, he and Nancy arrive at Will’s with books spilling out of their backpacks. 

“Won’t your mom miss these?” Dustin asks incredulously, eyeing the piles of well loved paperbacks spilled out onto the floor. 

“Nah,” Mike says. “She’s got tons more - this is literally just all we could fit in our bags. She’s already read these ones.” 

“Alright,” Nancy says, spreading them out. “I think the best thing to do is just divide them between us and she how far we can get.” 

“All these??” Lucas asks incredulously, eyeing the amount of books. 

“It’s field research, what did you expect?” Mike answers, shaking his bag out upside down to dislodge the last book, stuck at the bottom.

“Yeah, no complaining,” Dustin says, before pointing to a cover featuring an incredibly busty heroine with a scandalously torn dress that covers next to nothing. “I’ll take that one!” he says, reaching for it. 

“Uh, excuse me, seniority rules here Pal,” Steve says, swooping down and grabbing the book. 

Nancy rolls her eyes. “It doesn't matter who gets what!” she says. “There’s enough here for all of us to get two - oh, no, for all of us to get three, since El isn’t going to read them.” They’d all decided that giving El trash paperbacks to take back to the cabin probably wasn’t the best idea in case the Chief find them, so she was the only member of Operation Mistletoe absent for the meeting. “We forgot that when we were grabbing them - we’ll all take three then.” 

They dutifully divide up the pile, and start reading that very afternoon. In fact, they’re being so quiet that Joyce, who can’t remember the last time the house was _this_ quiet with the kids there, comes over and knocks on Will’s door. Frantically, they all rush to hide their piles of books.

When she opens the door, she sees the whole group of them just…sitting there, staring at her with too enthusiastic smiles on their faces. “What’s going on you guys?” she asks, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Nothing!” Will says, his voice just a little too high to be totally believable. “Why, what’s up with you?” This prompts a number of _‘Yeah how are you Mrs. B?’s’_ and _‘How was your day Mrs. Byers?’s’_ from the rest of the group.

“It’s…fine, thank you,” she says. 

“Did you need anything?” Will asks, that same too bright expression on his face.

“…No, not at all, I just…” she trails off, taking in the oddness of the tableau in front of her. “…wanted to know what you were all up to. It’s so quiet I’d almost forgotten you were all here!” she finishes, before they all start in with their replies. 

“Oh no, we’re here alright Mrs. B!”

“Yeah, here we are, just hanging out like kids do!”

“Totally normal, quiet kid time, Mrs. Byers!”

Jonathan, in seeing the look on his moms face, quickly clears his throat and tries to normalize the situation. “Uh…we’re just hanging out Mom,” he says. “Do you need any help with dinner?”he asks, and this seems to pacify Joyce.

“…No, no - it’s alright,” she says, stepping back from the door frame. “You all just…let me know if you need anything, okay?” she finishes, and a sea of too bright faces nods back at her before all shouting goodbye as she closes the door again. 

The group lets out a collective sigh of relief.

“ _normal, quiet kid time??_ ” Max asks Dustin incredulously. 

“What?? I panicked!” he says. 

“ _Okay!_ ” Mike interjects exasperatedly, before things get out of hand. “That was a rookie mistake,” he says. “We can’t just all of a sudden start acting out of the ordinary.”

“You guys just need to start shouting things randomly,” Steve says. “That’ll keep her out.”

They go on like this for another couple hours, for the most part silently reading with random shouts at random intervals, until it’s time to leave. 

“So remember,” Will says, as everyone gathers their things. “If you read something useful, radio it to me and I’ll add it to the board. Once we’ve got a bunch of ideas, we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Over the next few days the group relays their findings to Will, who dutifully updates the board. ‘Women like a bad boy’ goes up first, followed by ‘Guys fixing things’, ‘noticed after a makeover’, ‘forced date’, ‘GRAND GESTURE’, and ‘stuck in a room together’. They decide after some deliberation to keep ‘woman in peril’ (“as long as it’s not like… _too_ much peril”) and after almost no deliberation to veto Steve’s suggestion of ‘accidental pregnancy’ (“What? it was in all three of my books!”).Meeting each time they need to talk quickly becomes difficult (not to mention almost impossible for El) so they resort to almost constant communication on the radio. 

“How about ‘guys fixing things’?” Steve suggests. 

“Yeah, except nothing’s broken right now _,”_ Will says. 

“Just pretend,” El says. She has pretty good success with _pretending_ most of the time, like yesterday when she pretended the freezer had stopped working so she had to eat the last two pudding pops. “Don’t break something for _real,” she says, “_ just _pretend_ break. Then Popp-”

she stops herself, blushing, but Will picks up the slack.

“Then Hopper can come over and ‘fix’ it,” he says excitedly, his hands making air quotations around _fix_ even though only Jonathan can see him.

“Plus, Dad never fixed anything around here so Mom’ll like that, I think,” Jonathan offers with a chuckle into the reciever, before sobering.“Bob was good at fixing things too, though,” he adds quietly. “Maybe…maybe it shouldn't be like… technologically related.”

“Oh - her car! What about her car?” Nancy asks excitedly on her end of the line. 

“Man, that Pinto needs _no_ help being broken,” Steve supplies unhelpfully. “They literally _blow up_ all on their own! Hey - maybe we should use that for ‘woman in peril’”.

“Yeah Steve, that’s exactly what we should do - blow up Will’s mom,” Mike snarks. 

“Mom knows about cars though - hers has broken down often enough that there’s not much she wouldn’t be able to fix on her own.” 

In the end, Joyce’s resourcefulness in the face of a) being a single mother and b) being a single mother with a limited income thwarts this plan completely. Will and Jonathan try ‘breaking’ the refrigerator, the television, the front door lock, and manage to fiddle around with half of the electrical panel until things really _aren’t_ working - all in one day. All this serves to do is seriously stress out Joyce who runs around fixing everything herself on her one day off, and they feel so chastised about it that they never even get around to suggesting she call Hopper. In fact, they feel so guilty that Jonathan makes supper and Will runs her a hot bath which she takes before collapsing into bed at 9 pm. 

“Okay so that was a complete failure,” Will says into the radio the next day, describing what had happened. “Any other ideas?”

“Alright, as much as this makes me want to barf, maybe Steve is right about ‘Woman in Peril’. I mean, Hopper _is_ the Police Chief, right? We could like - pretend that someone was trying to break in, and she’d _have_ to call him.”

“Okay, but someone would have to volunteer to do it,”Lucas says. “And what are we supposed to do if they _actually_ get caught?”

Dustin sighs deeply. “What the hell,” he says. “I’ll do it, I’ve lived a good life.”

Mike’s eye roll is practically heard through the line. “No one would have to _actually_ break in, we could just…throw a baseball through the window, or something.”

“Yeah except then Joyce would have to replace a window,” Nancy says drolly. 

“We could come home from school while she’s at work and just pretend someone broke in,” Will says, excited. “We could call the Chief and everything! He’d probably pick her up on the way and bring her here!”

They try this the very next day, and as per usual, things don’t quite go according to plan. Jonathan makes the call.

“Hey, Hop?” he says into the receiver, Will standing next to him eagerly with the radio up to it so everyone can hear. 

_“Hey Jonathan,_ ” Hopper’s voice comes through the other line. _“You alright?”_ he asks, some confusion in his voice at the out of the blue phone call. 

“Yeah, we just - I picked up Will from school and when we got home the front door was open. Things looked a little weird inside -”

The Chief goes from friendly to deadly serious in a heartbeat. _“What? The house was broken into?”_

“it doesn’t look like anything was taken, but-”

Hopper interrupts him, his voice _“Are you still inside??”_

“Well… _yeah-”_

_“Are you positive there’s no one in the House??”_

“I - I mean, we checked most of the rooms-“ Jonathan says, faltering - they hadn’t anticipated the Spanish inquisition, and Will’s starting to flail. 

“ _Most of_ -,” he breaks off, incredulously. “ _Jonathan, get out right now and get into your car. Lock the doors. Do not let Will out of your SIGHT do you understand? We don’t know what this is. I’ll be there in five minutes. Does Will have his radio? If he doesn’t have it on him, do NOT go into any other rooms looking for it. Just leave the house and get in your car and wait for me.”_

“O-Okay, yeah, we will-”

_“five minutes. wait for me.”_ he finishes, and hangs up. Jonathan and Will cringe at each other. They had _really_ underestimated how seriously Hopper would take the idea of anything being amiss.

“…Yeah, we _maybe_ should have that that through a bit more,” Steve supplies unhelpfully through the radio. 

They go and wait in Jonathan’s car until Hopper arrives, and he has them stay there as he walks into the house, hand on his open holster. He clears every room first of any intruders, and when he’s satisfied the house is empty he methodically checks every single light fixture, phone, smoke detector, and any other place someone might have placed a recording device. It’s about an hour and a half later that he finally comes back out and ushers them into the house. He’s got them both on the couch asking them detailed questions about how things looked _exactly_ when they got home when they all hear a key in the door. All three of them jump up and stand there staring at the door as Joyce walks in. 

“Hey boys, I saw Hopper’s car out…front,” she trails off, catching sight of them. All of a sudden her expression turns panicked. “What’s…what’s happening?” she asks, worry saturating her voice. “Hop?”

“It’s alright Joyce,” he says, walking to her. “The boys called the station because the door was open and things had been moved around inside when they got home from school.” Her hand flies to her mouth, aghast. 

“Oh my god!” she says, her voice thin. She looks from Hopper to the both of them. “Are - are you both okay?” she says, reaching for them, and they both go to her, let her wrap her arms around them.

“They’re fine,” Hopper says. “I checked the whole house, it’s empty. The boys didn’t think anything had been taken.”

“Oh, god Hop - do you…do you think it could be..?” she asks, and by the way she trails off again they all understand that she’s talking about Hawkins lab. But Hopper shakes his head.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “I checked every light, every electronic, every place someone could have put a recorder. I didn’t find anything.” 

Then, to their horror, Joyce tells Hopper about yesterday’s fiasco with all of the electronics and appliances and lights in the house going haywire, and asks him if he thinks the two might be connected. So Hopper does _another_ sweep of the house, and then tells them that he’s going to sit outside in his truck _all night_ to make sure nothing strange happens in the night. Joyce is freaked out enough that she only protests two or three times before giving in. 

“But - but what about El?” Will asks, mortified at the turn this has taken and desperately grasping for anything to stop this from snowballing any further. 

“I’ll bundle her up and put the inflatable mattress in the back seat. She can sleep while I’m up front.”

He leaves the house and comes back a few hours later, El in tow. 

“Alright, so that was a monumentally bad idea, and I am _so sorry_ you guys,” Max says, when Will and Jonathan radio the group from Will’s room to explain what had happened. 

“Well,” Mike offers, as Will and Jonathan stare guiltily out the window at Hopper’s truck parked in the driveway, “at least we know he’s dedicated. I mean he wouldn’t be doing this for just _anyone_.”

“Yeah except we _already_ knew that,” Lucas says. 

“Guys she’s _just_ started to like me and now she’s going to totally hate me again!” Max wails,

“El won’t hate you,” Mike says. “She gets it. It’s the risk you take when you’re on a campaign”.

“Let’s just hope that she’s getting some information out of the Chief while they're both in the car,” Nancy says, looking for the smallest shred of hope to salvage the situation. 

“Guys, hope is not lost here,” Dustin pipes up. “This could totally count as a ‘grand gesture’!” 

“Yeah,” Jonathan murmurs, rubbing his lip. “That’s true, Dustin. Tomorrow we’ll see what we can find out from Mom.”

At that very moment, in fact, Joyce was lying in bed thinking on that very subject. Yesterday had been an absolutely hellish day all on its own: now thinking that everything breaking down might have been caused by someone inside their home? That they might have come back today while Jonathan and Will had been home alone? That they might have been from Hawkins lab? That the events from last year really weren’t as over as they all thought? It was keeping her stomach churning so much she knew sleep wouldn’t come tonight. And poor Hop, out there in the cold- she’d been so scared when she’d come home and seen the three of them there, and so unbelievably _relieved_ when Hop had said that he’d stay, she hadn’t even put up much of a fight. That was the kind of person he was, completely willing to offer to help, regardless of how cold it was outside or how tired he might be. He hadn’t even hesitated - he’d checked every nook and cranny in the house _twice_ , and he hadn’t wanted to hear no for an answer when he said he’d watch the house all night. Bob had been like that. So willing to step up and help, to not see her problems as a burden. She’s been so wracked with guilt over these burgeoning feelings for Jim, but - wouldn’t Bob have wanted it? Wouldn’t he have wanted her to be with a good man? A decent man just like he was? Someone who he knew would take care of her? And doesn’t she deserve it? 

_Doesn’t she deserve it?_

She gets up and goes into the kitchen, makes a pot of hot chocolate on the stove before shoving her boots on and her old, stupidly thin coat, before opening the door and walking out into the cold. 

It’s snowing a little, and she walks carefully down the path to the car at the end of the driveway.He sees her and gets out, shuts the door gently so as not to wake El who’s sleeping in the backseat under an absolutely gigantic mound of blankets. “Everything okay?” he asks quietly, frowning. 

She nods. “Yeah, I just - I couldn’t sleep so I made you both some hot chocolate,” she says, holding up a carafe. “I guess El’s conked out though, huh?” 

“That kid’ll sleep anywhere,” he half chuckles, plumes of white breath escaping into the night air. A gust of wind rushes by them and she can’t help but shiver. He _tsks_ loudly. 

“Jesus Christ, Joyce,” he says, reaching back into the passenger seat and bringing out one more huge wool blanket. “Are you trying to freeze to death?” He moves to wrap it around her and she fusses, but he won’t be deterred. He settles it around her shoulders and she grabs hold of the edges with the hand not holding the carafe. 

“Thanks Hop,” she says softly, a bit bashfully, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. 

He’s looking at her like he wants to be aggravated but it settles into fondness instead. “You need a new coat, Joyce.”

“I know,” she says.

“This one is shit.”

“I know,” she says. “There’s just always something more important to buy.”

“If you get pneumonia it’ll have been pretty important,” he counters. She nods her head as if saying _yeah, I know_ , sniffles once. She’s still holding the carafe and the heat radiates out from her fingertips. 

“Still cold?” he asks, and even though she is, she’s worried that if she says so he’ll say she should _go back inside and get some sleep Joyce_ and she’ll have to go in because what other reason would she have for staying outside here with him? So she shrugs her shoulder and says “just a little,” instead, waits to see if he’ll send her back in.

What he does instead is just look at her for a minute before extending his arm. “C’mere,” he says softly. 

She looks up at him, up at the snow coating the brim of his hat; the whiskers of his beard. 

She walks forward, slowly, into the open circle of his arms, and settles there against him. His jacket’s open and he brings the edges of it around her, the sheepskin lining not warming her nearly as much as his body against hers, his arm curling around her shoulders and tucking her there, his chin coming to rest against the top of her head. She wraps one arm around his middle, holds the carafe between them like a furnace with the other. He’s so much bigger than her, so steady and solid and warm, and even though she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself on her own, it’s unspeakably precious to her that in this moment, she doesn't _have_ to. 

“Thank you for doing this,” she whispers against the flannel of his shirt. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says. When she doesn’t say anything he jostles her with his arm a little. “ _Hey_ ,” he urges. She backs away a bit and looks up at him.

“I mean it,” he continues.“I’m here.” _I’m here_ , she repeats to herself. Those two words more important to her than the three other ones most folks want to hear. 

She nods. “I know.” 

They just look at each other for a minute, running their eyes over each others faces; the arch of en eyebrow, the aquiline ridge of a nose, the curve of a bottom lip. 

“You wanna go in?” he asks, his voice low and rough with something. Typical Joyce would say yes. Typical Joyce would start to feel self conscious about how long they’ve stood here together, start to second guess herself ; start to convince herself that by asking that it means he wants her to go. But he’s so warm and she feels so safe, and _I’m here_ is playing on a loop in her head, making her a little bolder than her usual self.

“Not yet,” she says. And maybe it’s really quietly, with her head down, but she’s still said it and that’s what counts, isn’t it?

He nods, a slow smile starting to stretch across his face. “Okay,” he says simply, and pulls her back in to the warmth of his arms, settles his coat more firmly around her, runs his hand over the blanket covering her back.

From inside the truck, El, who’s been using all of her considerable skill to keep absolutely still and quiet, smiles- and finally closes her eyes to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for Part II of Operation Mistletoe! There'll almost definitely be some kissing in the next chapter - just a little reward for those of you who read these end notes ;)
> 
> _Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom_ had literally _just_ become available on betamax for home viewing. 
> 
> _Murder, She Wrote_ had just started airing some weeks prior on CBS - it would end up spanning 11 seasons with Angela Lansbury's Jessica Fletcher solving crimes in syndication in dozens of languages all over the world. If you've never seen this show, do yourself a favour and check it out. You can watch the episodes in any order and it has the greatest detective AND the greatest theme song of any tv show ever!!
> 
> Hayley Mills did in fact play both Susan and Sharon in 1961's _The Parent Trap_. In one of the few instances where I prefer the remake, I think the 1998 version starring Lindsay Lohan is actually much better. 
> 
> Just like Karen Wheeler, I love romance novels. These are all common tropes from historical romance novels and they are all lulzy and hilarious.


	5. The week of December 16th (Operation Mistletoe: Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....remember when I said I wanted to have this story done by Christmas *last year*? Yup, well here I am with the next chapter a cool six months later! For those of you who're still sticking it out, get ready because this chapter's a doozy. Over six thousand words! So at least I'm making up on it with length :) I made a little promise at the end of the last chapter which also gets fulfilled here. In any case, enjoy! And continued thanks for all of your lovely comments and kudos <3

**The Week of December 16th**

 

**(Operation Mistletoe: Part II)**

 

 

“….and then??” Will asks, eagerly, as El relays her story over the radio, the whole group listening in on the same frequency.

“And…then..what?” El asks, her eyebrow raising in confusion. There’s a minute of silence over the airwaves.

“What - what do you mean _what?_ ” Max’s voice finally asks. “What happened next??”

“Well…nothing,” El repeats. “They stood there together for another while before Joyce went back inside.”

“They didn’t _kiss_???” Dustin asks, his voice breaking with exasperation. 

“…no?” El says, and the line erupts in a series of groans and ‘ _Are you Kidding Me?!’_ s’.

“I don’t believe this,” Jonathan moans, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. “How could they not kiss??” 

“They were literally _embracing in the moonlight_ and these two chuckleheads _still_ didn’t manage to figure it out,” Steve says, stupefied.

“This is unbelievable,” Lucas says. “What are we supposed to do now?? I don’t think we can swing any more domestic break ins, and that was our best plan!”

“Alright,” Nancy starts. “Let’s not give up hope completely. There were still ideas we didn’t get to, let’s go back to some of those. What about forced date?” 

“That one was in a lot of the books and seemed like it worked really well, but I just don’t see how we could actually get them to do it,” Jonathan says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“We could mix it with ‘stuck in a room together’, Max suggests. 

“That’s sort of less a date and more of a hostage situation,” Lucas reasons. 

“We just need…we need something that they could go to together that’s already _happening_ ,” Jonathan says. 

Nancy’s eyes go wide, and she slaps Mike’s arm in excitement. His yelp of ‘ _Christ, Nance!’_ is heard across the radio lines. 

“Jesus, was that _necessary_?” he complains, rubbing his arm.

“Hello!?” She shouts, a big smile beginning to bloom. “The Christmas Party! Mom’s Christmas Party!”

“That’s - holy shit, Nancy that is freaking genius!” Mike says, arm pain forgotten. The two of them whoop and holler 

“Sorry - can you share with the class?” Max asks, confused.

“Our parents have this super annoying Christmas party every year and they invite a ton of people in town. Joyce is definitely invited,” Nancy says excitedly. 

“Oh that’s right,” Will says. “Mom usually goes to that!”

“Yeah my parents go every year,” Lucas pipes in.

“Mine too,” Steve echoes.

“My mom too!” Dustin shouts around food in his mouth.

Jonathan’s eyes narrow in concentration. “Okay, so….all the grown ups are gonna be there. But what about the Chief? He doesn’t really seem like the type to go to something like this.”

“I’m sure he’s invited,” Nancy says. “I’ll double check that mom’s got him on the list. But you’re right - the more important question is whether or not he’ll _go_.” 

“Okay El,” Will chimes in. “Once Nancy finds out he’s invited, this one’s all you.” El, listening intently on her end of the line, nods her head in solemn determination before remembering no one can see her. “Yes,” she says simply. 

 

 

****

 

 

The next day Nancy sets to finding out about the guest list. She supposes it’s no real hardship to spend a few minutes letting her mom drone on about the event, thrilled that Nancy’s taken an interest.

“So, lots of people this year, huh?” she asks, leaning on the kitchen island and fiddling with the edge of a place mat as her mom cuts up a pineapple at the sink for her _Pork Luau_ recipe that everyone absolutely hates.

“The biggest ever!” she gushes, eyes bright with excitement. Even though her mom is a bit of a cliche, Nancy can’t help but smile a little for real at her enthusiasm.

“Anyone interesting coming?” She asks, schooling her voice into nonchalance. 

“Oh, you know - all the usual folks; Actually, Aunt Connie just let me know she’ll coming up from Boca for the Holidays so she’ll be here too - that’ll be fun, won’t it?”

“Oh, wow - yeah, definitely,” Nancy says, suppressing an eye roll at this news. _Ugh, Aunt Connie._ She and Mike had never been big fans of Aunt Connie, their moms’ younger sister who lived down south in Boca Raton, Florida. A real estate agent, Connie was the kind of person who you could describe in one word: loud. Her hair was loud, her voice was loud, her clothes were loud. Even her fluorescent pink toe nail polish which stood out garishly against her deeply tanned skin was loud. Connie was forever entangling herself in completely avoidable romantic dramas with cabana boys and older divorcees from up north on vacation. Every few months she’d call the house in a state, crying about some guy or another who’d left her, leaving a hefty long distance phone bill in her wake. She was completely exhausting and frankly Nancy was glad they only had to see her once a year or so. 

“Right?” Her mom continues, oblivious to Nancy’s distaste. “You know she called me a few days ago and was just so upset about this guy she’d been seeing who just up and left without even calling to say goodbye-”

“Shocker there,” Nancy mumbles, picking a hole into the fringed edge of the place mat.

“-so I said to her, ‘You know Connie, why don’t you just come up here and spend the Holidays with us?’ And it cheered her right up. It’s been so long since we’ve seen her and it’ll be great to catch up! Plus, I’m hoping to do a little _match making_ at the party with an eligible bachelor that I think Connie will _love_!”

Nancy scoffs while trying to smooth out the fringe so her mom doesn’t see the hole. “Eligible bachelor? What eligible bachelors have we got in Hawkins?” She can’t think of _anyone_ who’d like Connie. 

Her mom turns around, a bowl full of freshly chopped pineapple in her hands. “The Chief of course!” 

Nancy’s jaw drops so hard it actually hurts. 

“….Wh- what?”

Evidently expecting a more positive answer, Karen’s hands land staunchly on her hips. “Well don’t look so shocked! Connie needs someone her own age who’s a little more…stable,” she says diplomatically. “The Chief would be perfect.”

“But - but - she doesn’t even live here!” Nancy sputters out, incredulously. I mean, how long is she even planning on staying??”

“Well we haven’t decided yet Nancy, and that’s not really any of your concern-”

“ _Mom_ ,” she interrupts. “Aunt Connie is the _last_ person the Chief would be interested in. I mean - she has a pink flamingo ceramics collection!” she yells, and really, that is all the evidence that her mother should need to realize that this is a harebrained idea better left to the wayside. 

“Nancy!” her mom admonishes. “Aunt Connie has her own little things that make her happy just like the rest of us. That’s hardly a reason to be so rude! And I daresay that Chief Hopper could use a little brightening up in his life. You never know, maybe he likes pink flamingos too,” she reasons.

Completely speechless, all Nancy can do is stare at her mother, who is completely oblivious to the entire situation. _The Chief? Liking pink flamingos?_ Shaking her head, she manages a “sure, whatever mom” before heading out of the kitchen to find Mike’s radio.

It’s that moment that Karen looks down and sees the massive hole Nancy’s picked into the place mat. She tsks frustratedly, picking it up and examining the ruined edge. 

“Nancy Wheeler! Look what you’ve done to my best place settings. This whole set will need to be replaced!” she yells after Nancy’s retreating form. “Don’t think that’s not coming out of your allowance young lady!”

 

 

*****

 

 

The group spends over an hour on the radios that afternoon, Nancy’s retelling of her mothers’ matchmaking scheme predictably sending them all into a tailspin. Now it’s not just making sure the Chief _goes_ \- it’s making sure Karen Wheeler doesn’t set him up with a pink flamingo loving Boca real estate agent. Without any ideas as to how to fix the situation, they all fall asleep that night in heavy spirits. 

Sometimes though, these things resolve themselves without any outside interference - which is exactly what happens two days later in Melvald’s, thanks to a little bit of Christmas luck and some plain, old fashioned jealousy.

 

 

****

 

 

It’s 2 pm and Joyce is in the ‘holiday merchandise’ aisle, checking box after box of lights for broken bulbs. Two customers had returned boxes earlier that day complaining about defective lights, so Melvald had sent her on a mission to ensure no other boxes would ruin a customer experience. It’s boring, monotonous work, but at least it’s a break from the perpetually frustrated customers who all seem to think it’s Joyce’s personal fault that the Christmas lines are so long. She knows they’ll get another rush around dinner time but until then she can enjoy the relative peace and quiet. 

This is how Karen finds her not ten minutes later, carting along a shopping basket full of various holiday bric-a-brac. 

“Oh! Joyce, just the person I was hoping to find,” Karen says, looking like a woman on a mission. 

“Did you buy some broken lights?” Joyce asks, staring down into Karen’s holiday cart.

“What?”

“Oh- I just thought, well - a bunch of customers had returned-”

“Hm, no, it’s not about that,” Karen interrupts hurriedly. “I need your help. You know Connie?”

Joyce blinks. “Connie…your sister?” At Karen’s nod, she continues. “Well, yeah - what’s happened? Is she in some kind of trouble?” Not that Joyce particularly cares - Karen’s younger sister Connie was forever getting herself into dramatic situations she needed extricating from. Even when they’d been kids she’d been like that. Quite a pretty girl, she’d shared Karen’s expensive taste and love for attention. The difference was, where Karen tended towards classy, Connie was all flash and no substance underneath. She’d moved herself down to Florida years ago and had fully adopted the sun and surf lifestyle, working in real estate. It suited her, and it suited Joyce just fine that she was gone. 

“Oh no, nothing like that - it’s just, she’s coming home for Christmas for a visit and you know, she’s just broken up with this deadbeat cabana boy who I’m pretty sure she lent a bunch of money to, and she’s really very depressed about the whole thing.”

Joyce blinks. “Um - well, that’s terrible,” she offers. 

“Isn’t it??” Karen continues, gesticulating as she goes. “So I thought, you know, what better way to cheer her up than to bring her here and try to, I don’t know, set her up with someone nice - you know, someone maybe more her own age who has a real job.”

Joyce nods. “That’s really nice of you, Karen. I think that’s lovely.” She could care less about Connie’s love life, but what did it matter to her what Karen did for her sister? 

Karen exhales loudly, relieved. “See? I knew it was the right thing to do - I had a conversation about it with Nancy the other day and she seemed to think it was the absolute _worst_ idea in the world, I’ve no idea why she was so worked up about it. Now I just have to find Hopper, and-”

“Sorry…what?” Joyce asks, a soft sort of fogginess clouding her hearing all of a sudden. She _knows_ she didn’t hear that right.

“Hopper,” Karen repeats, oblivious to Joyce’s sudden state of utter confusion and building panic. “He still hasn’t RSVPed to the party and I need to make sure he comes so that he can spend some time with Connie. You two have been thick as thieves lately, do you know if he’s coming? Do you think you could ask him for me?” Karen finishes, her big eyes pleading. 

Joyce swallows. “Oh, uh…well, you see Karen-” she starts, the words rolling out of her mouth clumsily like they’re covered in molasses, “I’m just not sure if…uh, if that’s really the best idea.” Hopper would rather shoot himself in the foot than spend an evening with Connie, wouldn’t he? Of course he would. Connie was stupid and shallow and she wore too much makeup. _But then again…he used to spend a whole lot of time with a whole lot of women just like that_ her brain unhelpfully supplied _. Connie’s terrible conversation but who says they’d be interested in talking? She’s certainly beautiful, and a whole lot more cosmopolitan and feminine than you are. She’ll probably be wearing the latest, skimpiest dress she can find and he won’t be able to help looking._ It’s the stupidest thing, considering she’s no closer to being in a relationship with Hop than Connie is, but the sudden, unwanted thought of him kissing Connie - _touching_ her, makes her eyes tight like she might start to cry right here in Aisle 4. 

“What do you mean, ‘not the best idea’?” Karen asks, pouting a bit. “You’re always together, surely it wouldn’t be that hard to just put the idea in his head,” she continues, crossing her arms over her chest.

Joyce blinks rapidly, forces the appearance of nonchalance. “No, of course it wouldn’t be too hard, it’s just that-“ but Karen’s not looking at her any more, she’s looking over Joyce’s shoulder at something else. Joyce turns to see what it is, and of course - why wouldn’t it be Hopper coming right towards them?

“Oh, well never mind Joyce, he’s right here anyways I’ll just ask him myself,” she rushes out quickly, before calling out to him. “Hi Chief! Speak of the Devil, we were just talking about you!” she says brightly. 

“Karen,” he nods at the blonde before turning to her. “Hey Joycie,” he says quietly. She barely manages a small ‘Hi’ back before he’s turned back to Karen. “What’s this about then?”

“ _Well_ ,” Karen starts out excitedly, “I was just telling Joyce some exciting news about my sister Connie, you remember her, don’t you Hop?”

“Uh…sure, I remember Connie,” he says, the expression on his face one that Joyce takes to mean _I don’t care at all about this conversation._

“Well, she’s going to be in town this Christmas! Isn’t that great? I know she’s so looking forward to seeing everyone. She’s going to be at my Christmas party. Speaking of the party, you _are_ coming, aren’t you Hopper? I don’t have your RSVP yet,” Karen finishes archly, letting him know there’s only one correct answer to her question. 

To Hop’s credit he doesn’t fold right away. He tries an evasive maneuver first. “I don’t uh- I don’t remember getting one. Maybe it got lost in the mai-”

“I hand delivered them,” Karen says with a big smile before he can finish. “And I already checked with Flo that you _aren’t_ working a shift that night, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to come and spend some time with Connie. She’s newly single, did I mention that?”

Hop lets out a weak laugh, unprepared against Karen’s superior skills in party wrangling. “Well, it’s not - it’s not _that_ , I mean Connie’s great, but-” and Joyce can see he’s about to flounder, about to get roped in to spending the night with Connie and her fake tan and her big hair, and she’s speaking before she even really knows what she’s doing.

“But - he can’t, because - well, because-” Joyce pauses, looking back and forth between Karen’s expectant face and Hop’s confused one before blurting out, “Because-he’s taking me.”

What follows is a pause that feels like a Mexican standoff, before Karen breaks the silence with a squeal of excitement, clapping her hands together. Next to her, she can feel Hopper reel, physically, from her little announcement, but she doesn’t dare look at him. 

“Ohhhh! You two geese, why didn’t you just say so??” Karen shouts, Connie and her dating troubles long forgotten in light of this new development. 

She and Hop both let out a spate of nervous laughter before Karen thankfully moves onto another topic - decor for the party. As she goes on about needing new place settings for the dinner, Joyce manages to bring her eyes to Jim, who’s standing in front of her looking like he’s swallowed a grenade. _Oh god,_ she thinks, her heart dropping into her stomach. In the moment she’d thought - well, she’d just thought how _awful_ it would be to stare at Hopper with Connie all night, and she’d just leapt before looking once again. And - sure, _sure_ , gun to her head, the secret crush that she’s harbouring for Hop _might_ have also factored in, but the look on his face at the moment is obliterating any hope she might have had on that front with every passing second. 

“So, anyways, it’ll be a pain finding a new table scheme but I’m sure I’ll be able to work something out,” Karen says, before glancing down at her watch. “Oh! I’ve got to get going. I’ll see _you two_ later” she says, pointing between them with the gleeful look of someone who knows a secret, and leaves the two of them there in the aisle.

For a second, neither of them speak, but she breaks the silence first. 

“Hop - Oh god I’m sorry,” she blurts out frantically. “I just- it’s the very first thing that came to mind, I didn’t mean to…oh, I wasn’t thinking, I’ve just made a mess of everything,” she says, and Hop can see she’s genuinely upset. In fact, she looks close to tears. 

It’s a credit to how well he’s learned to conceal information from people that he was able to hide his shock when Joyce told Karen he was taking her to the Christmas Party. he wasn’t even planning on _going_ to the stupid thing and while he sure as hell didn’t want to spend any amount of time with Karen’s ridiculous sister Connie, now he’s going _with Joyce._ This is the kind of thing he usually doesn’t let himself think about, since it usually leads to a reaction that’s not easily taken care of in a one bedroom cabin he lives in with his pre-teen kid. The worst thing is, she’s only offered to go with him to save him from Karen’s sister, so it’s not like this is a real date with any of the possibilities that go along with it. How the hell is he supposed to control himself for an entire night with music and dancing and alcohol and her dressed up in something he’d rather take off? But - that’s his own problem. And it’s not something he’d think she’d be so upset over, especially since she suggested it. As always seems to be the case, he really has no idea what’s going on. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, coming closer to try and soothe her. “It’s not a big deal, Joycie, don’t be upset.”

“No, I just-I was trying to help, but you probably weren’t even going to go, and now you’re stuck going with me and Karen thinks…” she trails off here, shaking her head, before bringing her hands up to rub her forehead. He’s struck by how small they are; how finely boned and delicate. How is it that these hands are the ones holding the entire rag tag team of them together? He’s overcome by a swell of affection for this woman he cares so deeply for, and it maybe it’s this that makes him reckless. Maybe he’s tired of not saying anything. Maybe he’d stood there for a hour in the freezing cold the other night with her pressed up against him and it had taken every single thing in him not to keep her there and he was fucking tired of it. 

“What does Karen think?” he asks quietly. She’s going to rub the skin of her forehead clean off if she keeps it up, so he reaches up and pulls her hands down from her face. This startles her, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me,” he prompts her again.

She shakes her head again and tries to pull her arm back up but he’s got a hold of it. “She…you _know_ what she thinks, Jim,” she answers, frustration in her voice. 

He’s staring right at her, and he knows he’s going to go for it. “I don’t care what Karen Wheeler thinks or doesn’t think,” he starts, watching her face closely “And you’re right, I wasn’t going to go to the party. There’s about a hundred other things I’d rather do than schmooze with Karen and Mike and his business associates and listen to people talk about the fucking weather and who they’re voting for.” She looks - stricken, he guesses, so he’d better get to the fucking point. He swallows hard around the dryness in his mouth. 

“But I’d rather go to that stupid party with you, than do anything else,” he finishes quietly, breathing a little more heavily than he’d like to be. 

For a second she just stands there - not blinking, not _anything_ , and he experiences a moment of sheer panic waiting for her to react. Had he totally misinterpreted what had happened the other night outside the house? But then finally, she does - with just a shaky exhale, a small, watery smile, and a riotous blush that begins to climb its way up her neck.He nods his head shakily at her. “Okay?” he asks, just needing to know - needing to _hear_ \- that she understands. 

She nods her head back at him. “Okay,” she says quietly, and squeezes his hand. He can’t - it’s almost too much, knowing they’re finally on the same fucking page and not being alone with her; he doesn’t think he can touch her any more or he might not be able to stop, and that probably wouldn’t be a good idea right in the middle of fucking Melvald’s. 

from behind them, someone calls out Joyce’s name. She’s still just looking at him though, a hundred thoughts running between them like an electrical current. When she doesn’t answer the voice calls out again. 

“Joyce? Joyce, didn’t you hear me?” It’s Melvald, and Jim grudgingly lets go of her hands as the older man comes up to stand beside them. “Joyce, have you checked all of these boxes yet?”

Joyce stammers a bit in answering him. “Oh, I - well, no, not all of them yet but I-”

Melvald cuts in. “I asked you almost an hour ago,” he says testily, which is not something Jim’s going to stand for right now. 

“I needed help with something, I’m sure it can wait a minute.” he interjects.

Melvald raises one austere eyebrow. “Our customers expect the highest level of service Joyce, I’m sure you understand that.” 

Jim steps slowly into his space and uses his _I’m not fucking around_ voice. “And I’m sure _you_ can understand,” he grits out, “that it can _wait another minute.”_

“No, it’s - it’s alright Hop,” Joyce says, her hand soft on his arm. “I’ll finish it up in just a few minutes Mr. Melvald,” she tells him, and the older man nods shakily before being on his way.

“Melvald’s an asshole,” is what Jim says next.

Joyce laughs a bit. “He’s not that bad.”

They’re quiet then, their little spell from earlier broken by the interruption. They shuffle a little, unsure and off balance.

“Well I guess-"

“Should I- ”

“Oh - no, you go,” Jim manages out after they both start at the same time. Joyce clears her throat a little.

“Well I was just going to say…El’s at the house, Jonathan and Will picked her up and brought her over for a movie with the whole gang. Do you - I mean, will I see you? later?”

“I…Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Joyce points back to the shelf. “I’m just going to-”

“Right, and I’ve got to…go back to the station.”

“Well…I’ll see you later,” she says. And the whole thing might have been absolutely, terribly, unbearably awkward if not for that flush high in her cheeks, and the little smile on her face as she looks up at him from underneath those eyelashes, and the small squeeze she gives his arm on the way out. 

He whistles his way back to work. 

 

 

****

 

 

That very same afternoon, the kids are all in the Byers’ living room joined by one additional guest; Dustin’s cat yowls in aggravation from inside his kitty carrier, a wide plastic cone around his neck.

“Why’d you bring your cat?” Mike asks.

“He had an operation and he can’t be left alone,” Dustin explains, trying to keep the kitty carrier steady as the feline moves about inside. Another loud yowl from inside forces winces from the group. “What was I supposed to do??” Dustin asks. “It was either bring him with me or postpone the meeting!”

“Okay, whatever - just let him out and let’s get down to business,” Mike says. “How much time do we have before the Chief picks you up?” He asks El. 

“Two hours,” El answers. 

Dustin lets out the cat who hurriedly hides beneath the couch, and the whole group finds their spots and settles in.

“Okay, so, obviously we’re planning on having them both by at your Mom’s party, but that’s almost two weeks away,” Will says. “What if your mom keeps trying to set the Chief up with your crazy aunt? We can’t just wait and hope things go for the best; We’ve gotta do something!”

“True -grown ups’ll fuck everything up if left to their own devices,” Steve says sagely from the sofa. 

“Okay, but what about like - actual mistletoe?” Max asks, and the whole group is silent.

“Wow,” Dustin says, after a moment. “We’re…really dumb.”

“How….did we not think of that,” Lucas questions incredulously. “Like…we _literally_ called it operation Mistletoe.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll work though,” Nancy reasons. “Just because you’re standing under mistletoe doesn’t mean you _have_ to kiss the other person.”

“Sure,” Dustin says with a smile. “Which is why we’ll be there to peer pressure them into it.”

Will nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says. “Mom’s a sucker for the whole ‘spirit of Christmas’ thing. We can throw that at her.”

“Plus,” Max adds, “if you _don’t_ kiss someone under mistletoe it sort of means more than if you _do_ kiss them.”

“Okay, so…when are we doing this?” Will asks. 

“Well…why not today?” Dustin asks, a smile stretching its way all the way across his face. 

They tear through box after box of Christmas decorations, but come up empty. Max suggests the bright idea that it doesn’t need to be _real_ mistletoe, sothey set out with markers and scissors and a big value sized pad of coloured construction paper that Will’s got lying around.

“That’s not mistletoe that’s just a badly drawn leaf!”

“Okay can we all just look at Will’s, he’s the only one who knows what he’s doing.”

“Why are you cutting berries out of the green paper??”

Needless to say, It takes them a little while to get a good one. Once they’ve finally got it, Jonathan hoists Will up on his shoulders so that they can tape the string its hanging off of it to the ceiling. 

“You think she’ll notice it once she gets home?” Will asks.

“Nah,” Jonathan answers, tipping his head to look at it. “Mom’s usually knackered after a shift anyways, I doubt she’ll even see it.”

Twenty minutes or so later, Joyce pulls into the driveway. She walks in tired after a long day and soaking wet from a storm that’s just hit, and just like Jonathan suspected, doesn’t notice the mistletoe at all. There does seem to be _something_ different about her though, as she stands at the counter, playing a bit with her hair and humming idly while she chops potatoes.

Nancy raises her eyebrows from her position in the doorway. “Guys…something is _definitely_ up with your mom.”

“Yeah…she’s never this happy making dinner,” Will agrees as she shimmies her hips a little bit. 

Dustin’s crouched on the floor, making binoculars with his hands to stare at Joyce. “Do you think something happened?”

“Like what?” El asks. 

“Like maybe the Chief went over to Melvald’s at lunch today and proclaimed his love in front of everyone?” Steve suggests. They think about it for about a split second before all bursting into laughter.

“Yeah, right,” Lucas laughs out, holding his side. “Like _that_ would ever happen.”

Suddenly - there’s a knock on the front door. All nine move to the doorway, nine heads watching silently as Joyce wipes her hands on a kitchen towel before walking over and opening it. She says something to the Chief that they can’t quite hear over the sound of the rain before gesturing behind her quickly and running back into the kitchen to put the potatoes in the oven.

The kids groan collectively. “She was only there for a second!” Mike whines.

“He’ll come in,” El says. “He always comes in for a cigarette at the coffee table,” she says matter of factly. 

“El!” The Chief shouts from the open door - he can see them all there in the doorway to Will’s room. “Come on kid, time to head out.” A myriad of confused noises escapes the group. “So much for that thought,” Dustin mumbles from beside her. 

“Aren’t you…coming in?” El tries again, the group waiting with baited breath.

“It’s raining like crazy out here El, let’s get home before it gets any worse.”

“Uh - we’re just finishing up something in here Chief!” Will shouts earnestly. 

They nudge Nancy to speak too, since she usually gets the most positive reaction from the parents. “It’ll just be a few minutes!” she shouts. 

“You better come in Hop, you’ll get soaked standing there,” Joyce says. from the kitchen. The kids slap each other’s back excitedly as the Chief nods his head before ducking through the door and moving inside. Curiously though, instead of moving to the kitchen to sit at the table like he normally would, he stays there in the hallway. 

“Why’s he just standing there?” Lucas whispers.

Man shrugs. “Do you think they’re mad at each other?” The kids discreetly study the bashful expression on Joyce’s face as she stands against the stove and the little smile creeping along the Chief’s. “That doesn’t look like fighting to _me_ ,” Mike says, skeptical.

“Yeah, it looks like how you look at El the whole time,” Dustin chuckles from behind him.

Mike _tsks_ and reaches a hand back to try and give him a purple nurple.

“Come on guys, knock it off,” Jonathan admonishes, reaching between them.

“El!” They hear the Chief shout again. 

This time Joyce joins in too. “Will honey, Hopper and El have to get back home!” 

“Alright, last shot,” Will says. When we all go out, let’s see if we can get Mom into the hallway.” So they shuffle out, tense and watchful, for the last stand. The Chief stands from his position on the wall and holds out his hand to El. 

“How was the movie?” he asks, and El blinks before remembering she needs to lie.

“Good,” she says.

“What’d you watch?” 

“Umm…”

“TRON! Lucas shouts. “We watched TRON.”

The Chief raises a skeptical eyebrow at El. “ _You_ watched TRON?” Action and Sci-fi weren’t exactly El’s usual fare - she loved movies that really spelled things out. Long, dramatic monologues where people talked about and explained their feelings were her favourite. Musicals, too. She’d recently watched _Yentl_ what had to be a record breaking four times in a row. That had been a…difficult one to explain, to say the least.

El blinks again. “…It wasn’t very good.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” the Chief laughs. 

“Bye El,” Will says, moving in to hug her, spurring a long line of hugs from everyone else. Finally the last one left is Joyce, and it’s almost like slow motion as they watch her move into the hallway to give El a hug as well. As soon as she steps over the threshold of the linoleum it’s like a bomb goes off, with the whole group of them hooting and hollering and clapping at once. 

They both draw back, startled by the sudden theatrics. 

“What - what’s this about?” Joyce laughs. 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” they all shout at once, pointing up at the ceiling. 

Hopper takes off his hat to look up at the ceiling. “What…is that?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, affronted. 

“Yeah,” Joyce adds in. “Is it…is it paper?”

“It’s mistletoe!” Will shouts out incredulously.

“ _Obviously,_ ” Dustin and Lucas add under their breath. 

“Doesn’t look like Mistletoe to me,” Hopper says, skeptical.

“Oh! Okay, I - I see it now. I see the berries,” Joyce says, nodding. “That was sweet,” she says.

“Uh huh, real sweet,” Hopper says, rolling his eyes a little. “Come on El.” But she shakes her head.

“You have to kiss first. That’s the rule.”

“Kid…those aren’t _real_ rules, they’re just made up,” he argues back, which apparently wasn’t the right thing to say as the kids launch a verbal assault back to him.

“Yes they are!!”

“The rules of Christmas are unflinching and rigid!!”

“If you believe in Santa then you need to believe in the rules of Christmas!”

“Okay, Okay - _Okay,_ guys come on,” he says. “That’s enough.” 

He looks over expecting Joyce to agree, to laugh off the kids’ collective insistence on the ‘rules of Christmas’, but instead she’s standing there with this _look_ on her face that makes him think all kind of things he shouldn’t be thinking in front of children. 

“Well…what harm could it do?” she asks lightly.“Just one, for the sake of Christmas.” He swallows hard. Okay, yes, so he’d basically walked into Melvald’s and told her he wanted to be with her today, which was fucking terrifying but also amazing, and obviously the next step after that was kissing, but - now?? _Surely not…in front of the kids??_ It’s not like he doesn’t _want_ to kiss Joyce, Jesus - half his time is spent trying to get himself to _stop_ thinking about kissing her. But that didn’t mean he was planning on doing it _now_ , in front of their _kids -_ he isn’t even _prepared_ for gods sake!

He huffs out an anxious laugh, has just enough time to half stammer a “Well, I-” before she's got her small hand on the lapel of his jacket, is pulling him down, and meeting him halfway with the press of her lips on his. 

Her lips cool and soft and just slightly, slightly wet, like she’d licked them a moment ago, and even though it’s a chaste thing, he’s almost shocked by how keenly his body responds. It feels like someone’s run an electrical current through him, all the little hairs on his body standing on end. It lasts just a couple seconds before he feels her pull back, and then - then something happens. 

For a second they just look at each other, neither of them moving away, and before he even really knows it he’s kissing her again, her mouth opening slightly beneath his, and again, the blood pounding in his ears at just the slightest touch of his tongue to her lip- she comes back to herself then, pulling away slowly, eyes wide, as she remembers they have an audience. Christ, his heart’s pounding like he’s just run a fucking _marathon_ just from a fucking _kiss._

“Well,” she laughs out shakily, cheeks absolutely _scarlet_ , “there we go, rules of Christmas satisfied.” He is just - absolutely flabbergasted. Finally he remembers the kids, and looks over to see every single one them just staring at them, open mouthed. 

He clears his throat. “Right,” he manages out. He feels like his brain’s short circuited. 

“Right,” Joyce echoes back. 

“So I’ll just - I’m gonna,” he gestures to the door.

“Right, okay, sure,” she nods, a little frantically.

“But I’ll - I’ll call you,” he says.

“Okay, it’s a date,” she says, and his eyes go wide before she starts shaking her head. “Oh, _no_ , I didn’t mean - I mean a phone call isn’t a _date_ obviously and it’s not like we’re…dating, or anything, so- yeah. Okay! I’ll just - yeah. You should…you should get home before the storm gets too bad.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

He leaves the house and makes it a few steps outside before realizing he’s fully _forgotten_ El, and has to double back to get her. 

As soon as the door closes, Joyce tells Jonathan that they can have pizza for dinner and excuses herself to her bedroom. The whole group of them stands stock still in the hallway, shocked into silence. Finally, Mike speaks.

“Is…what- what just…happened?”

“The most awkward kiss that’s ever been kissed,” Steve offers wisely. 

“Those two have got it _so bad_ for each other,” Max says.

“They’re so right for each other, and yet…so…awkward.” Nancy agrees, an utterly confused look on her face. 

“Were they even speaking English after?” Lucas asks. 

“They need so much help,” Will thinks out loud. “They’re lucky they’ve got us pulling the strings; they _never_ would have got here on their own.”

Dustin’s cat, who’s wandered his way into the hallway and is now sitting at their feet, meows loudly. “Agreed,” Dustin answers. 

Steve scratches his head. “So…victory pizza?” he asks Jonathan. 

“Yeah man, I’ll order.”

“Um…Dustin?” 

“Yeah?”

“…preeeetty sure your cat just peed on the carpet.”

“DUSTIN!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The rules of Christmas are unflinching and rigid" is a paraphrase of a quote from the 'Drug Testing' episode of _The Office_ , where Pam and Jim play a game of jinx throughout the entire episode. 
> 
> We reference two 80's movies in this episode - sci fi adventure classic _TRON_ , and the musical masterpiece _Yentl_. These are both from 1983, because I figured Joyce wouldn't have the most recent Betamax tapes at home. I thought Eleven would really get a kick out of _Yentl_ ; if you don't know it, it's about a jewish girl named Yentl (played by the incomparable Barbra Striesand) growing up in the early 20th century in Poland, who desperately wants to learn and study the Talmud but isn't allowed because learning is only for boys and men. So she disguises herself as a boy and a whole host of hilarious hijinx ensue. It has some of the most beautiful songs ever sung on film, including the wonderful _Papa can you hear me?_ that I think Eleven would just die for. Definitely dramatic enough for our dramatic heroine! Fun fact, Yentl won Barbra Streisand the first ever Best Director award for a woman at the Golden Globes that year.


End file.
